by Titan Books
“Without honor, a man should not live. He took my honor and left me my life. You think that could be good, Dalton? Did you hear the people of our village, our neighbors, yelling for my blood? Do you think I can walk among them now?”
Dalton, more confused than ever, didn’t know how to answer that. His father was indeed humiliated in the eyes of the people of Kaymak. More importantly, Tolar was humiliated in his own eyes. Dalton’s arguments meant nothing to his father. Instead, Dalton turned and silently left the sleeping area, letting the drapery fall closed again. Tolar continued to stare silently up at the ceiling. Dalton went into the main room. He stood there, alone, by the window; he stared out, confused…
* * *
Virdon, his back to the street, was leaning against the bars and thinking. He had grown tired of pacing the small cage like a wild animal. Suddenly, he was hit with a staggering blow to the back of his head. He cried out and tumbled forward as someone prodded him in the back. He rolled across the cage and came to a stop against the solid wall, rubbing his head. He got to his feet, facing his attacker, breathing heavily.
Jason and Irnar were opening the door to the cage. The door swung open and the two apes entered, under the watchful gaze of four armed gorilla guards. Jason held a rifle, with which he had just hit Virdon; now he walked menacingly toward him while Irnar looked on, somewhat dismayed at the gorilla’s unnecessary viciousness. “Where did your friends go?” said Jason in a surly voice. “Where is your meeting place?”
Virdon held himself upright, although the pain in his head made him dizzy and sick. He glared up at Jason. “When you questioned me before, I told you that there wasn’t any meeting place,” he said. “If you didn’t believe me then, you won’t believe me now.”
“I don’t believe you now,” said Jason.
“And there’s no way I can possibly persuade you that I’m telling the truth, so I won’t even try.”
“I might be persuaded,” said Jason roughly, “if you told the truth.”
“There isn’t any meeting place,” said Virdon.
“You’ll tell me where it is, or I’ll—” Jason raised his rifle and turned it, preparatory to giving Virdon another clout with the butt end.
Irnar raised a hand. “Jason,” he said, “I don’t approve of this method of interrogating the prisoner.”
Jason ignored Irnar’s objection. “I’m not very much interested in your approval,” he said to the prefect.” Then he turned back to Virdon. “I’m giving you good warning. I have had a good deal of training, and I can promise you that you’ll talk before much longer. The condition you’ll be in at that time is entirely up to you.”
“I forbid this!” cried Irnar. “I’m still prefect in this village, and you’re under my jurisdiction.”
Jason turned sharply, glaring at Irnar for a moment. “You don’t have any jurisdiction, you clumsy country chimp! Talk to Urko, if you have any doubt about who has precedence here. You’ll be lucky to get out of his office with your head on your shoulders. I won’t hear any more of your empty threats, Irnar. I advise you to enjoy your title, Prefect, because you will no longer have it, once I make my report.” Jason turned and stalked out of the cage.
Virdon glanced at Irnar. “Thanks,” said Virdon.
Irnar whirled to face the astronaut. He gave a cry of anguish, seeing his peaceful future vanishing, his one dream of contentment ruined. “Why did you ever come here?” he shouted. Then he turned and left the cage. The door was locked again by one of the guards.
* * *
Moving quickly, Burke and Galen ran from the woods, raced across the open area, and reached Tolar’s house.
They listened for a few moments, but there was only silence. The two looked at each other. Burke shrugged.
Inside the house, Dalton sat alone in the main room. Tolar had not stirred or said anything further. The dark drapery remained undisturbed. The youth stared at it, lost in thought. He was startled by a knock at the door. He glanced in that direction, puzzled, wondering who it could be. Tolar and Dalton had received few visitors, despite the father’s previous glory. With many broken, confused thoughts spinning in his mind, Dalton got up and went to the door. He opened it and was even more surprised to see Burke. Galen stood to one side, out of sight.
“Can we come in?” asked Burke.
Dalton hesitated, turning to look at the somber barrier his father had erected. Finally Dalton nodded and stood away from the door. Burke entered; when Galen followed, Dalton reacted with even greater astonishment. For a few seconds, he could only stare at the young chimpanzee.
“I want to speak to your—” said Burke. He broke off when he saw the way Dalton was responding to Galen’s presence. “Oh,” said Burke, “this is my friend, Galen.”
Dalton was confused. “Friend?” he asked. “An ape?”
“Don’t let his appearance fool you,” said Burke.
Galen smiled, understanding what the young wrestler was feeling. He was not at all insulted. “Oh, yes,” he said. “It’s quite possible. Hello.” Galen held out his hand to Dalton.
“Hello,” said Dalton, more out of reflex than social grace. Hesitantly, though, he held out his own hand.
The young man and the young ape shook hands. Now, suddenly, Dalton smiled broadly, as though he had made a great discovery. It was, indeed, merely a confirmation of something he had always suspected. “Yes,” he said. “It is possible, isn’t it?”
“Look,” said Burke, “we need your father’s help. Yours, too.”
“What kind of help could we be?” asked Dalton curiously.
“Our friend’s in the cage,” explained Galen. “We have to get him out.”
“No.” Burke, Galen, and Dalton turned to see Tolar, who stood in front of the dark curtain. “No,” said Tolar again, this time more forcefully. He was very tense and angry; his hands were clenched at his sides and his face had flushed a deep red color. He glared directly at Burke.
“You have disgraced me,” said Tolar in an anguished voice. “We will not help you disgrace the prefect, too.” He turned to Galen with a touch of deference. “We are loyal citizens here,” he said, not knowing Galen’s relationship to Burke.
“Listen to me for a moment,” said Burke, not yet understanding Tolar’s reluctance to help them. “My friend’s a human being. He’ll be taken back to Central City and Urko will have him killed.”
“He’s a stranger,” said Tolar. “We owe him nothing. He is a criminal. We have no debt to him.”
“You owe me something!” said Burke hotly. “You owe me your life!”
Tolar walked across the room until he was very close to Burke. He looked into the astronaut’s eyes as he had before throwing the dirt in Burke’s face, as he had in the arena. On each occasion Tolar’s reasons had been different, but his expression had been the same, the same as it was now—determined and proud. He spoke, and his voice was tight and filled with bitterness. “For that I tell you to leave my house!” he said.
“No, Father!” said Dalton sharply, almost without thinking.
Startled, Tolar whirled, staring at Dalton in shock.
“He’ll stay,” said Dalton. “And if I can, I’ll help him.”
There was a long moment of silence as the man stared at his son, not knowing what to say. The youth was only a little smaller than his father. They were nearly matched in strength; only Tolar’s vastly greater experience allowed him to defeat Dalton in their practice wrestling matches— that, and, of course, Dalton’s natural reluctance. But now, with Dalton asserting himself, Tolar was at a loss. “So,” he said finally, “you are taking on the authority of father.”
“I am sorry,” said Dalton, anguished. The situation was very difficult for him. He had never contradicted his father in this, way before. “You have retired to your bedroom. You said that you were no longer among the living. Well, this man’s friend is among the living, and he needs help.”
“This is your decision?” asked Tolar.
Tolar looked, from Dalton to Burke. Slowly, his proud demeanor almost visibly altered. His shoulders slumped slightly, and he turned slowly and went back through the curtain, into his sleeping area.
* * *
Jason was making use of Irnar’s desk, writing his report. He barely glanced up as Irnar entered the hut. Jason continued to write. Irnar glared; the implicit insult of Jason’s working at Irnar’s own desk and the omitted acknowledgment of Irnar’s presence were clear enough.
“The approach you were taking with that man would not have worked,” said Irnar, attempting to be firm with Jason. The gorilla didn’t bother to reply. Irnar pressed on. “Some men do not respond to force. I have made a study of human behavior. I have had a good long time to observe them.”
“You’ll have your opportunity to tell Urko all about your studies,” said Jason contemptuously. “It will get you nowhere. Urko doesn’t share your tender concern for humans.”
“My way is practical,” said Irnar. “It controls humans with the minimum effort and cost.”
Jason gave a short laugh. “Yes, yes, of course,” he said. “That’s precisely what I’m putting in my report. I saw an example at the arena.”
“The people reacted that way because they need a death to finish off their games,” said Irnar. “They didn’t get it.”
Jason put down his stylus with exaggerated calm. He looked up at Irnar; his expression was ugly. “I’m very, very sick of hearing about your games, Irnar!” he said.
“But it’s true!” protested the prefect. “Human nature! “Violence! Aggression! Hostility! My way keeps them from—”
Jason interrupted the flow of Irnar’s arguments. “You’re raving,” he said. He was about to add something, when he suddenly slapped the top of the desk. “I’m such an idiot!” he cried. “Your way,” he said, in response to Irnar’s questioning stare. “Your humans want a death. We should let them have the prisoner.”
“But I thought your orders were to capture the two humans and the chimpanzee and return them to Central City?” said Irnar. “Don’t you have to keep him protected until Urko can question him?”
“Officially, yes,” said Jason, letting his voice trail, off meaningfully. Irnar looked at him for a long moment, then grinned.
“You needn’t send in that report, either, Lieutenant,” said Irnar.
Jason looked up with a good deal of distaste. “I am General Urko’s lieutenant,” he said slowly. “At least, sometimes I am described that way. More accurately, I am his aide de camp and his military liaison officer on detached duty. My own rank is colonel. Even a raw gorilla recruit would know that from the insignia on my uniform.”
“That’s beside the point,” said Irnar excitedly. Jason’s expression indicated that he did not agree, but the prefect went on anyway. “I have a feeling that I may be able to stay on as prefect. You’re going to see how my theory works.” Jason only nodded doubtfully.
* * *
Curtains were drawn over the windows in Tolar’s house, protection in the unlikely event that someone from the village approached the house while Burke and Galen were still there. Tolar had retired to his separate quarters. Galen sat by one window, the curtain drawn back just enough so that he could peer out. Dalton and Burke were seated by the fireplace, in which a fire had been built to chase the sharp coolness of the evening. Burke whittled on a stick and Dalton added another bit of wood to the fire. “Humans more important than apes?” Dalton asked incredulously. “There really was such a time?”
Burke shrugged. “I was there,” he said.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know,” said Burke, staring into the fire. “That’s something we’ve been trying to learn since we got here. Information, history… all of that seems to be jumbled and scrambled and lost. But I can guess. War. Killing. Men destroyed each other. Themselves.”
“But the arena,” objected Dalton. “You didn’t kill my father. And you could have. You were supposed to.”
“I had no reason to kill him,” said Burke.
“It’s the way of the games,” said Dalton. “Ever since I can remember, that has been the way.”
Burke repeated his statement quietly. “I had no reason to kill him.”
Dalton looked at him for several seconds, touched by Burke’s sentiments, yet troubled. He rose, his inner feelings in conflict. He went to the window beside Galen and looked out. Then he glanced back at Burke. “In your time, did all humans feel this way about killing?” he asked.
“It depended on the war,” said Burke. “But there were always some who wouldn’t kill for any reason. Conscientious objectors. Pacifists. Whatever label people stuck on them, they all meant pretty much the same thing; that these people figured human life was just too special.”
Dalton glanced at Galen. “Do you understand this?” he asked.
“I’ve never understood the need to kill,” said the chimpanzee. “It’s a thing for humans.”
“My mother was a… ‘pacifist,’ I think,” said Dalton.
“Do you remember her?” asked Burke gently.
“Of course,” said Dalton. “I was young, but she told me things. Father doesn’t understand, but I try—”
“Wait a minute,” said Galen, raising one hand.
“No, really,” said Dalton, misunderstanding. “I sometimes think about what my mother—”
Galen was listening intently. He cut off Dalton again. “Horse,” murmured the chimpanzee. “Someone coming.” He moved quickly away from the window.
“Hurry!” said Dalton. Burke looked at Galen for a moment. There was nowhere to hide in the cabin, with the possible exception of Tolar’s shutoff area. But it was not likely that Tolar would let the fugitives hide there. They ran for the back door. Dalton watched them, concerned for their safety. In a few seconds, he heard the sound of a horse walking. The sound stopped; a short time later there was a knock at the front door. Dalton opened it. Irnar entered, and the young human nodded his head respectfully.
“Prefect,” said Dalton.
“How is your father, Dalton?” asked Irnar. Before the youth could answer, Tolar pulled back the drapery and appeared. “Ah,” said the ape, “Tolar. How are you?”
“I am ashamed, Prefect.”
“No, no,” said Irnar. “I won’t have it. The champion of Kaymak all these years. Such a glorious career.”
“All careers come to an end,” said Tolar. “Mine should have, but didn’t. Not in the way I deserved.”
“No,” said Irnar musingly. “But it was the man who fought you, he should be ashamed. Not you.”
“Yes,” said Tolar. “I…” His voice trailed off. He glanced at Dalton, a mixture of emotions running through him. He hesitated, then looked back at Irnar. “Prefect,” he said, “I—”
Dalton could guess what his father was about to say. He wondered if Burke and Galen had remained close enough to listen to the conversation and to run if it became dangerous. “I think you should lie down, Father,” said the youth.
Tolar looked at his son. “I think he should know—”
Dalton interrupted. “There’s nothing for him to know,” he said. “The prefect needn’t be bothered with every detail of our lives. It is nothing.”
Irnar’s eyes closed slightly. He glanced from one human to the other. “I am concerned for your welfare,” he said. “What is this ‘nothing’?”
“My father’s disgrace,” said Dalton smoothly. “You cannot imagine how much it troubles him.”
Irnar shook his head. “I knew it would,” he said. “Your father is a most proud man. But, Tolar, it will be forgotten. Your shame will be washed away, I promise. The games tonight will make the people forget.”
Dalton gave Irnar a quick glance. “Tonight?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Irnar, turning to Dalton and smiling. “The torches will be lit and you will bring honor back to your family. You will fight th
e friend of the man who disgraced your father. And this time there will be a death. Is that understood? I want no error. There will be a death.” With that, Irnar turned and left the house.
A moment later, the back door opened and Galen and Burke entered, standing just within the doorway, disturbed, looking at Dalton.
Dalton was stunned by the prefect’s announcement and stood staring into space as Tolar came to him, proudly putting his arm around his son’s shoulder.
8
The cool dusk was marked by the first faint flush of stars. In the west, the sky was still bright red where the setting sun had burnt it. Virdon sat on the floor of the cage, pushing the straw around idly. He was slumped disconsolately against a wall; after the clout he had taken from Jason’s rifle, he had not come near the bars. His attention was aroused by the sound of a key being placed in the door’s lock. He looked up.
Morko, the gorilla guard, was opening the door. Behind the gorilla stood Irnar. There was a second gorilla standing guard near the prefect. Virdon looked at them without much interest. Irnar entered the cage and walked over to the man. He looked down at him with a sense of compassion. “I’d like to speak to you for a moment, if I may,” he said.
“It’s your town,” said Virdon, shrugging.
“I can understand your hostility toward me,” said the prefect. Virdon only looked at the floor in silence. “You say you are from another time, I hear,” continued Irnar. “You and the other human. This is what Jason told me.”
“Yes,” said Virdon.
“Is it better than now?” asked Irnar.
“It’s different. And it’s home.”
“Yes, I can understand that. As this is home to me. And that’s the reason I—” Irnar broke off sadly. “I’m sorry you ever came to my village. Any of you.”
Virdon answered flatly. “No sorrier than. I am. We had no choice. From the moment you picked up that magnetic disk and put it in your pocket, I had to get it back.”
Irnar looked at him in surprise. “It was that?” he asked. “That little thing? That’s why Galen came to—? I wish he had simply, told me. I’d have given him the thing with my blessing. It meant nothing to me. Instead, that disk has caused us all an untold amount of grief. So foolish.”
