by Titan Books
The ridiculousness of the question made Galen swell up with tremendous indignation. “‘Appointment’?” he cried. “Octavio needs no appointment to see some insignificant prefect! Do as you are told!”
The gorilla hurried through the green curtain into Aboro’s private office. He returned immediately, explaining that the prefect must have stepped out temporarily. The trooper looked very worried.
“Is there something that I can do for you?” asked Lieutenant Daku.
“Who are you?” asked Galen, as he might address the lowest creature on Earth.
“I am Lieutenant Daku,” said the gorilla. “I am the prefect’s aide.”
“You will address me as ‘sir,’” said Galen, pushing the circumstances as far as he could, beginning to enjoy it.
“Yes, sir,” said Daku.
“Tell your master that Octavio, Private Secretary to Dr. Zaius of the Supreme Council is here,” said Galen. “I will wait in this chair. It will be well if you seek out your superior, rather than make my stay overlong. This village of Hathor has wearied me already.”
Daku nodded, unable to speak. He was visibly impressed. He turned and went back through the green curtain. Galen could plainly hear conversation in the inner chamber. Evidently Aboro was in, after all, and the gorilla trooper had lied, waiting to see who Galen presented himself as being. Now the identity of “Octavio” was important enough for Aboro to make a sudden “return.” Daku reappeared shortly and gestured to Galen. “This way, sir,” he said.
Galen followed him through the familiar green curtain. As he expected, Aboro was seated at his small desk in the private area. For a moment, the two apes stared at each other, sizing each other up. Then Aboro rose, nodding to Daku to bring up a chair for Galen.
“Uh, won’t you have a seat?” asked Aboro, completely bewildered and unsure of the seriousness of the visit.
Galen accepted the chair, but said nothing for a moment, slapping the swagger stick instead against one leg. The silence grew uncomfortable.
“Is this an official visit, Octavio?” asked Aboro.
Galen coughed into one fist. He looked idly about the narrow room. “You might say so, you might say so,” he said, clearly not wanting to give Aboro any premature indication of what was planned for the new prefect. “Dr. Zaius has had his eye on you for some time, Prefect Aboro. You are Aboro, aren’t you? I assume that you are, as I assume that this village is Hathor. But so far from Central City, all the towns look so similar. Have you noticed that? And the prefects! How similar they are, also!” Galen was intensely pleased to see the anger start in Aboro’s eyes at these words. Nevertheless, the prefect kept his fury under control.
Aboro stammered for a moment. “I… yes! I’m Aboro,” he said angrily. “What do you think I’m doing behind this desk?”
“I have no idea and as little interest,” said Galen in supremely bored tones. “To continue: Dr. Zaius has had his eye on you for some time.”
“So you said,” said Aboro. “In what way do you mean that?”
“I mean simply that you have attracted the attention of a considerably busy ape,” said Galen.
“I am deeply honored,” said Aboro.
“We shall see,” said Galen ominously. “Dr., Zaius also knows all about your clumsy attempts to bribe his subordinates!”
This revelation fell like a bombshell in the prefect’s small office. There was shocked, stunned silence for a long while. Aboro looked at Daku, who only shrugged helplessly. There didn’t seem to be anything else to do other than allow this emissary of the Supreme Council to make his accusations, his threats, and his departure.
“He… knows?” asked Aboro lamely.
Galen’s voice was even firmer. “Everything,” he said. “He knows all that goes on around him. That is why he is the head of the Supreme Council, and not some bumbling fool like Urko. He knows much that goes on behind his back, as well. He made you Prefect, Aboro—even though Zaius’ subordinates think that they did. He closed his eyes to your bribery for one reason, and one reason only. Because he had already earmarked you for greater things.”
This declaration had much the same effect as the previous one, but for totally opposite reasons. Once again, Aboro was speechless for several seconds.
“Greater things?” asked Daku, trying to keep the conversation proceeding. He saw greater things for Aboro as meaning, at the same time, greater things for Daku.
“Greater than Prefect?” asked Aboro in a whisper.
Galen smiled and smacked the stick against his leg a few more times. Then, with a bored expression, he stood and walked slowly back and forth. “It is no secret,” he, said. “I am giving away no confidences.” He drew nearer to Aboro, and lowered his voice. “Still, there are apes who know of these things, apes who will learn, and apes who must be kept ignorant for a time. Do you understand my meaning?”
Aboro nodded. He jerked his head in Daku’s direction questioningly.
“Let him stay,” said Galen generously. “He may have a part in this.” Daku smiled. “Now,” said Galen seriously, “the basic story is this. In Central City, of course, Dr. Zaius has long had his differences with General Urko. You, as a gorilla, and I, as a chimpanzee, are well aware of these differences. Too often has Urko acted independently of the Council, going over Dr. Zaius’ head, ignoring the authority of the Council and Dr. Zaius. Zaius bided his time, until he found the one leader who would be the perfect replacement for Urko.” Galen stopped meaningfully.
Aboro looked at Daku and licked his dry lips. He wondered if he understood Octavio’s words correctly. Aboro looked back at Galen. “The thought of higher office than this has never even crossed my mind!” he said.
“Of course it hasn’t,” said Galen. “Perfect. That is one of your chief recommendations.”
“Besides,” said Aboro, “Urko and I are friends of long standing. I have never even thought of replacing him.”
“Of course you haven’t,” said Galen. “But now, you just might.” Galen walked toward the curtain, stopped, and turned. “Think over the implications of what I have shared with you. I shall contact you again tomorrow morning.”
Aboro’s lips tried to form words, but failed. Galen nodded brusquely and left the office. Aboro looked at Daku, who could only wipe his sweating brow and collapse into the chair which Galen had vacated. Aboro sat down heavily behind his desk.
Outside the office, Galen’s reaction was no less severe. The mental and emotional strain of his act caught up with him. He leaned against the outside of the closed door, absolutely spent. He panted a little and shaded his eyes with one hairy hand. He let out a long, slow sigh of relief.
While Galen recovered his wits, Aboro and Daku were doing the same inside. Daku faced his superior officer over the narrow table of the back room. “General Aboro,” said Daku, with a note of suspicion in his voice. “Commander Aboro. Very impressive.”
Aboro was euphoric. “Imagine the great Dr. Zaius knowing of me all the time!”
Daku’s voice was slow, still not completely convinced. “According to Octavio, yes,” he said. “But who is this Octavio?”
“Why, Zaius’ secretary!” said Aboro. “You heard him—”
“Yes,” said Daku. “We heard him. But we have only his own word that he is who he says he is. He brought no identification, no written word from Zaius.”
There was a pause, as doubt crept info Aboro’s mind. “Daku!” shouted the Prefect. “Get off a heliograph message to Central City. Let us find out if Octavio is, as he claims, from Dr. Zaius!”
3
The wooded countryside was peaceful; the great turmoil which occupied the residents of Hathor did not extend beyond that village’s limits. And, in truth, this was the case elsewhere, too. The ape empire was loosely knit. One town was isolated from another, not only by geographical distance, but by custom, laws, and sometimes language as well. In the woodlands, there was never anything but peace, unless human beings ran through on furtive erra
nds of their own or mounted apes crashed through on mighty missions of government.
Now, as afternoon edged slowly toward evening, Virdon and Burke made their way through the brush. Leaving Galen to play his part in the village of Hathor, they had departed on their own assignment. Virdon stopped suddenly; without a sound, Burke halted behind him. Virdon parted the shrubbery in front of him and peered out. He gestured to Burke, who leaned over Virdon’s shoulder to take a better look.
Not far away, at the top of a small rise, stood a heliograph tower. The apes, hating all the technology which represented their earlier domination by mankind, had developed this system of sending messages by reflected light from mirrors mounted high on towers. It was an ingenious system, and it criss-crossed the empire, linking all the outlying districts with the Central City. The structure itself was rickety looking, built with a crow’s nest aloft. A gorilla guard patrolled the base perimeter of the structure; his companion, another gorilla patrol officer, lolled on a stool high above in the crow’s nest.
“Pete,” whispered Virdon. He gestured to Burke, his hand indicating the ape in the crow’s nest. Burke nodded his understanding.
The gorilla guard at the base of the tower had not yet heard or seen anything suspicious. He leaned against one of the supports of the tower, sleepy, bored. Nothing ever happened so far from the city… After a while, he began his slow patrol again. He took his time marching around the structure. As he disappeared around the corner of the heliograph tower, there was a loud rustle from the bushes on that side of the clearing. There was a muffled cry, and then the solid thunk of the guard being struck by a heavy object. There was the sound of the guard’s body falling to the ground. Then, once more, there was silence.
Virdon bent over the fallen guard, checking to make certain that the gorilla was entirely unconscious. Then, laboriously, the blond astronaut began dragging him into the brush, out of sight.
The guard in the crow’s nest heard something, he thought, but he couldn’t be certain. He looked over the railing, but he saw nothing unusual. He sat down again and tilted back in his chair. Burke climbed the tower silently; when the guard looked over the railing, the astronaut had had to press himself tightly against the rough wooden beams of the tower. Now, though, he knew that he was relatively safe. He tried to make his voice a good grumbling imitation of a gorilla’s hoarseness as he called, “Halt! Who goes there? Stand right there!”
The gorilla guard in the crow’s nest got to his feet and unslung his rifle. He peered down toward the ground, but he could see nothing, not even Burke as he clung to the shadowy dark timbers that formed the base of the tower.
“Gorak?” called the gorilla from the top of the tower. “What is it?”
Burke once more disguised his voice as best he could. “Humans,” he called.
That was the signal for Virdon to begin thrashing about in the underbrush again. The noise was clearly audible to the gorilla guard this time. “Hold on,” called the ape in the crow’s nest. “I’m coming down!” The gorilla swung a leg onto the outside ladder that led down to the ground and began the tortuous climb. He grasped the rungs tightly, fearfully, as his rifle swung back and forth. The gorilla guard was very frightened of heights, although that was something he could never tell his commanding officer.
Burke was on the ground level now, standing beside one of the broad base timbers. “Stand still!” he cried in his best ape voice. “Hold, or I’ll shoot!”
“Just a second,” called the gorilla. “I’ll be right there. Hold them off until I can help.”
Burke looked up and watched. Just before the gorilla came within reach, Burke slipped around the corner of the tower. As he disappeared from view, he heard the heavy sound of the gorilla jumping to the ground.
“Gorak?” called the gorilla.
“I got him,” answered Burke.
The gorilla guard needed to hear no more. He dashed around the base of the tower. There was another sickening thunk and the crash of another gorilla body to the ground.
“Not bad,” said Virdon.
“Two for two,” said Burke.
The astronauts dragged the second gorilla to a spot near the first. Then they took time to tie and gag both guards securely. Virdon examined their handiwork critically, then finally gave a satisfied nod to Burke. “Okay,” he said, “we’re all set down here. These guys aren’t going anywhere for a long time.”
“After you?” asked Burke.
“Thank you,” said Virdon. The blond man started up the ladder toward the crow’s nest, followed immediately by Burke. The climb went smoothly and quickly; there were no other gorilla troops anywhere nearby. The two men were confident, yet Burke voiced the only negative thought that had occurred to him.
“You know what I’ve been scared of?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Virdon, anticipating his friend’s fear. “That we got here too late and the message was already relayed.”
“How did you know what I was thinking?” asked Burke.
“How many times in the last few months have you thought anything at all that either Galen or I hadn’t already thought of?” asked Virdon. “No, seriously, it was a possibility that I’ve been worrying about for a while.”
“Hey, look!” cried Burke, pointing far into the distance, where the blue-green of a range of hills was split by the lightning flashes of a heliograph. All else in the panorama was still and serene, grayed by distance, but the bright reflections from the giant minors drew all the attention of the two humans.
“All right,” said Burke to himself, figuring the time scale in his head. “That has to be from Aboro’s headquarters, assuming that Galen’s act went off according to schedule. If that’s the case, then we got here just in time.”
The two men watched the heliograph winking its coded message for several seconds in silence. The system was clumsy and inefficient, dependent on the time of day and the weather, but it was the best that the ape leaders could devise—or would allow.
“Can you read it, Pete?” asked Virdon.
Burke stared with his eyes squinted. “…requested on Octavio, an aide to Dr. Zaius. Inform Prefect Aboro of status immediately,’” he said. “That’s it. I think they’re repeating the message a second time. Yes, I got it.”
“I’m glad your code-reading is better than mine,” said Virdon.
“The important thing is that Galen pulled it off,” said Burke. “He did it. At least well enough to make Aboro go through the trouble of checking. He was at least that convincing.”
“We’re not out of the woods yet, Pete,” said Virdon, seriously.
“Doggone it, Alan,” said Burke impatiently, “why is it that every time we accomplish something, make some really great heroic play, you have to turn to me with that long face and tell me we’re still hanging around in the Valley of Doom? Why don’t you ever give us credit for our success?”
“I do,” said Virdon. “And I will—after we’ve made sure of it this time. We still have a long way to go. You better acknowledge that message before they get suspicious.”
“Oh,” said Burke. “Yeah. Right. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
While Virdon watched anxiously, Burke studied the mechanism of the heliograph mirror, finding that it was operated on a simple shutter mechanism. He worked the shutters in a brief coded message, then waited.
Across the valley, from the distant hills, came an answering flash. “‘Acknowledged,’” said Burke. “They bought it. They swallowed Galen, and now they’ve fallen for us. How are we doing?”
“Close,” said Virdon.
“Close, but?” said Burke.
“Yes,” said Virdon soberly. “But…”
“You always have that ‘but,’” said Burke. “I can always predict it.”
“That’s what’s kept us alive, enough times,” said Virdon.
“Well, anyway, so far, so good,” Burke replied.
“I’ll grant you that,” said Virdon, relaxing a bit.
&n
bsp; “One of the interesting things about that message is that Aboro is prefacing his name with a new title these days,” said Burke. “He’s calling himself ‘Lord of the Apes.’”
“I can think of a few apes right off hand that would dispute him,” said Virdon, gazing out toward the now-darkened heliograph tower in the distance. He looked up at the position of the sun, just past noon, sliding down into afternoon. “It’ll take an hour or better for the relays to get the message to Central City,” he said musingly. “Another hour back. We’ll give it two hours and then heliograph the confirmation.”
“Like clockwork,” said Burke.
“That’s what it is,” said Virdon. They both stared down at the peaceful forest below and wished that their lives were as free as they pretended.
* * *
Inside Prefect Aboro’s office in Hathor, the gorilla chief was pacing his floor. He was consumed with anxiety and curiosity, and he knew the limitations of the transmitting equipment. There was nothing to do but wait; but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t bother his subordinates every few minutes, just to relieve his own tension.
“Any word from Central City yet, Daku?” he asked as his lieutenant entered.
“We should hear from them very soon, I estimate, sir,” said Daku. There was a short pause. “Aboro,” said the lieutenant slowly, “suppose this Octavio is an imposter? It could be some kind of trap or plot against you. You should be giving thought to that.”
“Believe me,” said Aboro, grinning evilly. “I have, I have. In that case, Octavio will be executed before sundown.”
* * *
The time passed as slowly in the crow’s nest as it did in Aboro’s office. There was nothing for Virdon and Burke to do to pass the time. But the time did pass, eventually. Virdon studied the position of the sun, which was just beginning to dip behind the taller, of the forest’s treetops. “As near as I can figure,” he said, “it’s been a good two hours. You might as well go ahead, Pete.”
Burke nodded, saying nothing. There was no need for any further discussion; all conversation had been used up many minutes before. Burke went straight to the heliograph mirror, took hold of the shutter handle, and shuffled the shutters in the proper code. Then he stopped and waited.
