by Titan Books
Meanwhile, Lafer had come out of the laboratory building and had begun walking unsteadily back to the humans’ quarters. He witnessed the entire scene. Travin, curious about the girl’s shouting, emerged from the, humans’ building; Lafer met him, and explained. “The girl ran away; the stranger wanted to take her blood.”
Lafer stared across the courtyard; Burke was still chasing the girl. The astronaut’s cries seemed to float back over the dusty ground to Lafer and Travin. Travin reacted with a terror that seemed to go far beyond what was called for by the situation. “No, no,” he said in a trembling voice. “It mustn’t happen!”
The girl saw the gorilla in the guard post by the main gate and turned away, parallel to the wire fence that bounded the medical compound. Soon she came to a place that evidently had been used before: she lifted the wire fence and slid beneath it. Burke was only a few yards behind. No apes witnessed their peculiar chase. The girl ran out into a broad street that served the suburban neighborhood as a main street. Burke followed in pursuit, without a thought as to what might happen if they were caught by any of the ape citizens. After a few more yards he overtook the girl. She struggled in his grasp, crying hysterically. Burke did his best to calm her down.
“Please,” he said, “listen to me.”
“No, no!” she said, sobbing. “My blood is evil. I’ll kill him. Please, please!” The girl collapsed, crying. “I don’t want to kill again,” she said, almost incoherently.
Burke was puzzled by the girl’s words. “Again?” he asked. “What do you mean?”
The girl just continued to cry, her fists pressed against her eyes, and her whole body shaking. Burke swore softly at this delay. Before she could answer his question, Travin’s voice came from behind them. “She’s a murderer,” he said, in a cold, hate-filled tone.
Burke turned around to face the man who had followed him and the girl. The astronaut was astonished to see, besides Travin, Lafer and several other men from the compound. “Don’t you think you’re endangering your secret exit like this?” asked Burke contemptuously.
“Shut up,” said Travin. The man turned to his daughter. “Tell him,” he said.
“No,” begged the girl, looking up wildly at the circle of men, searching for a friendly face among them. “Please—”
Travin put a firm grip on the girl’s shoulder and tightened it. “Tell him!” he said, between clenched teeth.
There was a long silence. Then the girl, sobbing, tears running down her cheeks, told her story. “My brother,” she said mournfully. “I murdered him.”
Burke looked startled. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get back to the humans’ building. We look like we’re out trick-or-treating.”
“What?” asked Lafer.
“I get that reaction a lot, lately,” said Burke to himself. “I wonder if I do have a southern accent, after all.”
A short time later, when the humans had successfully re-entered the compound and gone back to their quarters, Travin began explaining the girl’s story. “My only son,” he said, in a voice filled with pain. “He was sixteen.”
Burke stood near the chair in which Travin sat. At her father’s feet sat the girl, still crying.
“There was a hunting accident,” said Travin, taking a deep breath. “They brought him back to the medical center. The doctors there were doing experiments with blood transfers. It was the only time they ever tried such a thing. I told them that they could use my son in the experiment.” He looked up at Burke. Travin raised his eyebrows and continued hastily. “I wasn’t putting his life in danger. He was dying. This was a way to save him. At least, that was what those ape doctors told me.”
Burke nodded, not willing to antagonize Travin further. “What happened?” he asked.
“My daughter gave him her blood,” said Travin bitterly. “The boy died. The doctors said her blood was no good… no good!” Travin seemed on the point of tears. His voice was anguished. “My only son… she killed him with her evil blood!”
Burke knew that he had to stop what was becoming an ugly scene. “Listen to me,” he said loudly. “Her blood wasn’t evil. The blood was incompatible. It was of a different chemical type, that’s why your son died. This girl has type O blood. She is, generally speaking, a universal donor. But there are other factors. The doctors ought to have tested the blood before they tried transfusing it. If they had, the transfusion never would have taken place.”
“Are you saying that I killed my son?” asked Travin hotly. “I was trying to save him! She killed him. If she gives her blood to your friend, he’ll die just like my son!”
Burke made a fist and shook it before Travin’s face. He was growing angry with Travin, and he caught himself before he completely ruined any chance to save Virdon. “You’re not worried that my friend might die,” he said. “You’re worried that he might live, aren’t you?”
Travin stared at Burke, unable to answer for a few seconds, stunned by the audacity of the astronaut’s accusation: Travin started to speak, then stopped. He took a deep breath. Suddenly, for the first time in many years, Travin was in a defensive situation, his authority questioned and crumbling. He had to do something to save himself in front of the other humans whom he had ruled for so long.
Before he could begin his defense, Burke continued. “Dr. Kira told me the doctors had their doubts about the blood transfer experiment,” said the astronaut. “They were afraid to try it, even on humans. But Dr. Kira says that you insisted.”
Travin’s face fell when Burke confronted him with this condemning bit of evidence. The others crowded closer, to hear if it were true. “To save my son!” cried Travin.
Burke would not be put off by this simple excuse. He had formed his own ideas and, for Virdon’s sake as well as the future welfare of the humans of the compound, he pressed the matter. “Was that the only reason?” he asked. “Or were you trying to get in good graces with the apes, so they’d reward you, promote you?”
Travin was now in tears. He knew what Burke was leading up to and, as it was the truth, there was little that Travin could do. “My son was dying!” he said, sobbing. “Can’t you understand that? There was no other way to save him.”
Burke began to feel a little pity for the man. In a way, he had traded his own son for a position of security. Given the same situation, who was to say that Burke wouldn’t have done the same? “You’ll never know for sure,” he said. “All you know is, your way failed. And the guilt’s been tearing you apart ever since. So you made up this story about a curse, and eventually you even came to believe it yourself. It was easier to believe she was cursed than that you had killed your only son.”
Travin was falling apart before Burke’s eyes. He was just a helpless old man now. “No, no!” he cried, but his voice did not carry the same force it had before. Travin turned to the girl, his daughter. “Don’t listen to him,” he pleaded. “If you give him your blood, you’ll spread the curse. The people will kill you!”
The girl looked at her father in silence for a tense moment. New understanding, seeded by Burke’s arguments, began to dawn on her. When she spoke, her voice was quiet, full of despair. “What would they be taking from me by killing me?” she asked. “I died long ago.”
Travin opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. He looked at her, unable to respond in any way to the simple truth of her words. He turned away, angry, frustrated; then Travin rushed out of the room. Burke took the girl’s hand; she held on to it tightly.
One of the operating rooms in the medical center’s main building had been prepared in haste and secrecy. Operations upon human subjects were rare, and when they did happen they were for the purpose of scientific experimentation only. Repairs were hardly ever undertaken upon humans, because slaves were easy to replace.
Now, though, Virdon lay on the operating table. Dr. Kira was getting ready to operate, and Galen and Burke stood nearby to help.
The girl was lying on an operating table close by, ready to
transfuse blood if the need arose, through a simple gravity-operated transfusion apparatus. The medical book which Galen and Burke had stolen from Zaius’ home was propped up where Burke had easy access to it. Various instruments were laid out on an adjacent table. Just before the operation began, Burke turned to Kira. “Do you have any cloth masks?” he asked.
Dr. Kira was puzzled by the question. “Yes,” she said. “We use them for going into the room of the dead. But what do we need them for?”
Burke wondered again at the large gaps in the knowledge of the apes concerning medical procedures. Apparently they hadn’t developed a germ theory, or the practice of disinfecting all operating room equipment that would follow such a theory. “It’s a long story,” said Burke wearily. “It has to do with keeping the operating room as clean as possible.”
Dr. Kira was beginning to think that there was something clinically wrong with Burke’s mind. He always had something new and odd to say. “We already scrubbed our hands with soap and alcohol, as you instructed. However, if you think it’s necessary…”
Shaking her head, Dr. Kira walked across the room to a small wooden cabinet. She pulled open a drawer and took out some cloth masks. She put one on herself, and gave the others to Burke and Galen. Burke put the mask over his nose and mouth; then he bent down to speak to Virdon. “Dr. Kira says we’re going to use a liquid anesthetic,” he said. “All you have to do is breathe naturally through the cloth. You won’t feel a thing.”
“At least not until I get the bill,” said Virdon weakly.
Burke smiled and nodded to Galen, who took the chloroform-soaked towel from a closed container and laid it across Virdon’s face. Virdon breathed deeply several times. His eyelids drooped closed, and then he was asleep.
Outside the operating room, in one of the corridors of the main building, Dr. Leander walked slowly toward Kira’s office. Toward him came another chimpanzee, Dr. Stole. “Good evening, Doctor,” said Dr. Leander.
“Good evening,” said Dr. Stole. “Is there some kind of emergency that brought you out this late after your regular office hours?”
“No,” said Dr. Leander in a genial voice. “I was just looking for Dr. Kira. I couldn’t find her in her quarters, and no one has seen her for several hours. I thought that she might be working in her office.”
“Ah,” said Dr. Stole. “No, she isn’t in her office.”
Dr. Leander thought that this Dr. Stole must be, after all, a pretty stupid fellow. “Well, then,” said Leander, disguising his irritation, “do you know where she is?”
“Certainly, sir,” said Dr. Stole. “She’s in surgery.”
Leander reacted with surprise and consternation. “Surgery?” he said. “But I’m quite sure that we don’t have any surgery scheduled for tonight. I made up the assignments myself.”
“It was just posted, Doctor.”
“Who is the patient?”
Dr. Stole paused. “Dr. Adrian’s orderly,” he said finally.
* * *
Back in the operating room, the team was running through the final stages of its preparations. Virdon rested unconscious on the table. Burke watched him anxiously. Galen watched Dr. Kira, unable to do more than fetch things as she ordered. Kira instructed Burke to check Virdon’s pulse a final time before they began. He did and reported, “Pulse and respiration are normal, Doctor.”
“Well, then,” said Dr. Kira, drawing a deep breath, “I suppose that we can begin.” She seemed nervous and uncertain, and she certainly had good enough reason. Her brows creased over her sterile mask. She looked up at Burke. “What if there are complications?” she asked.
Burke did his best to reassure her. He tried to sound confident, but he was afraid that he failed in that miserably. “I’ve got the book right here,” he said. But he knew that Kira still didn’t have complete faith in the ancient human medical text.
Kira picked up a scalpel and held it motionless over Virdon’s body. There wasn’t any way that she could avoid doing the job, now. She shook off her fears and became her cool, professional self. Just before she could make the first incision, however, she was stopped by a voice. “Kira,” said someone who had just entered the operating room.
Kira stopped, holding her hand frozen above Virdon. She turned with the others to see Leander at the door. Burke muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
Leander took a few steps toward them. Galen and Burke exchanged worried glances. “Why didn’t you tell me you were operating tonight?” asked Leander.
Galen decided that he would have to continue his bluffing act if the situation were to be saved. He adopted a know-it-all attitude and spoke up. “My fault, Doctor,” he said heartily. “I was supposed to notify you. Dr. Kira must be held blameless.”
Dr. Leander waved the explanation away, suddenly curious about the patient and the technical aspects of the planned surgery. “What kind of operation is this?” he asked.
“A bullet wound,” said Dr. Kira. “It is very possible that the nervous system may be affected.”
Dr. Leander looked up suddenly at Kira, then turned his gaze on Galen and Burke. “That’s very interesting,” he said. He tried to keep his voice impersonal, but the danger of the situation was obvious to everyone. “In what way did the human get this bullet wound in the back?”
“My colleagues and I were hunting,” said Galen, unable to think of anything more convincing on the spur of the moment. “My orderly was retrieving the game, and he was shot by accident. Dr. Kira is going to try a new technique in experimental surgery. If it works, it is likely that it can then be applied to apes.”
For the first time, Dr. Leander seemed to notice the girl on the other table. “This girl,” he said. “Why is she here?” He examined the transfusion apparatus. “Surely you’re not planning a blood transfer?”
Dr. Kira wiped her sweating forehead. “There could be extensive bleeding,” she said, her voice hoarse and strained.
Leander walked closer to Kira. His expression was unreadable, except that Galen and Burke knew whatever the ape was thinking, it was unpleasant for them. “We tried a blood transfer before,” said Leander to Kira. “If you will recall, I believe I proved that it can’t work.”
Galen interrupted; he couldn’t count on Kira’s maintaining her resolve in the face of this pressure from her supervisor. “We’re trying a new process, as I said,” declared the chimpanzee. “I’ve been working on it, uh, at my clinic.”
Dr. Leander looked at Galen closely, torn between his sincere scientific curiosity and a sense that things were not quite right. The whole operation seemed to have been planned and almost carried out with a view to avoiding his official attention.
“In that case, Doctor,” said Leander in an ironic tone of voice, “we may be on the threshold of a breakthrough in medicine. May I join you?”
Kira looked at Galen, expecting him to continue the imposture that had so far brought them all into such a dangerous situation. Galen said nothing for a moment. Burke stood motionless, waiting to see how Galen would react to Leander’s unexpected challenge. Then Galen, handing one of the sterile masks to Leander, said, “It’s our pleasure and honor to have you with us, Doctor. Would you mind wearing one of these masks during the operation? We’ve found it useful at our clinic to wear them as protection against the vapors.”
Leander looked at Galen suspiciously, but accepted the mask. “And you don’t think these masks interfere with your technique at all?” he asked.
“Not at all,” said Galen authoritatively. “Dr. Kira has already become accustomed to its presence, isn’t that right?” Kira only nodded.
“You practice a fascinating kind of medicine, Dr. Adrian,” said Leander with a wry smile. There was no humor in the expression, and the director’s implied threat was easy to interpret. “I’m quite eager to watch you in action.”
“I’ll bet you are,” murmured Burke. Leander didn’t hear him. Galen swallowed nervously but didn’t answer. Dr. Kira could on
ly look helplessly at Galen. They had all come to the final crisis.
4
The operation proceeded. The team of Dr. Kira, Galen, and Burke was grouped around the table, working under the extreme pressure of Leander’s ominous presence. Compared to it, the danger inherent in the surgery itself lessened somewhat, but not so much that any of the three were not continually reminded that they were entering territory in medical knowledge that had been unexplored for hundreds of years. Kira, who had done most of the work, flashed another quick look at the medical text, but it was on Burke’s side of the table. Burke had to help her and block Leander’s view of the book at the same time. Leander stood behind Galen, peering over the young chimpanzee’s shoulder.
“I think you’ve neglected to see that a clamp is necessary on that bleeding vessel, Doctor,” said Leander.
Galen looked up at Kira. How did he do that? Burke slowly handed Galen the clamp, without saying a word. Galen took the thing and looked at it for a few seconds. He didn’t know what in the world to do with it. Suddenly he got an idea and turned to Leander. “It’s rare that a country doctor like me gets a chance to see a well-known surgical authority at work,” said Galen. “I’d like to watch you do it.”
“It’s just some minor bleeding, Doctor,” said Leander, his brows contracting above his mask. “However…”
Leander reached forward and took the clamp from Galen’s hands. Galen quickly and agilely slipped past Leander and let the medical director get to the operating table. Galen pantomimed a sigh of relief behind Leander’s back, and Burke nodded in reply, to show that he understood what Galen hoped to do. Now involved in the surgery, it was possible that Dr. Leander might forget about Galen’s presence, and that Virdon would have the benefit of two top surgeons, rather than a single expert and a puzzled fugitive chimpanzee. Leander applied the clamp and stopped the bleeding. Galen relaxed for a moment.
“The bullet,” said Kira anxiously. “I can’t reach it.”
