Planet of the Apes 03 - Journey into Terror Read online

“ ‘Split’ means ‘leave,’ ” said Galen. “I will have to remember that. The language has certainly lost a lot since your day.”

  “A lot of things around here have,” said Burke.

  “But what happens after the vault?”

  “We stash all that knowledge somewhere safe.”

  Galen kept up his questioning refrain. “After that?” he asked.

  “I suppose after that,” said Burke, looking up at last and smiling, “I guess we come back and find Alan.”

  Galen was very pleased by Burke’s reply. It was obviously the answer he had been waiting to hear. “I was wondering how long it would be before we got around to that,” he said.

  Burke slapped the chimpanzee on the shoulder, then turned his attention back to the battery.

  The castle room where Virdon had been confined seemed more cheerful to him. There was a fire in the fireplace, although it was not a roaring blaze. There was little to be used as fuel until he smashed up some of the furniture. Virdon walked to the fire and put another piece of wood on. After all, he told himself, it wasn’t his furniture. Still, he felt a peculiar reluctance to break it up. Kraik watched him carefully; Virdon was aware that the boy had watched everything the astronaut had done during the day. It was very likely that Virdon was the first competent adult male human that Kraik had ever known. Realizing again what kind of a life the boy had had up until now, Virdon felt another welling of compassion for the boy. The blond man turned to him. “My name is Virdon,” he said. “Alan Virdon.”

  There was a moment’s silence. Then the boy, in turn, spoke up. “I’m Kraik,” he said.

  Virdon smiled. “Kraik,” he said. “A good name. I’m glad to meet you, Kraik.” Virdon, out of force of habit long suppressed in this hostile future, put out his right hand. But, of course, the action did not have the effect that Virdon expected. Kraik just stared at Virdon’s hand warily. Then the astronaut reached over, took Kraik’s right hand in his own, and they shook.

  While they did, Virdon explained. “Where I come from,” he said, “when two men meet and want to be friends, they do this. They shake hands.”

  “Why?” asked the boy.

  Virdon looked down at Kraik for a few seconds, thinking. “That’s a good question,” said Virdon. “I’m not sure if I know the answer. Customs sometimes start way back and hang on after the reason is long forgotten.”

  “But when you know you don’t know why you’re doing something, why keep on doing it?” asked Kraik.

  “Because after a while,” said Virdon, “the custom gets a value of its own. Because doing it makes you feel good or comfortable, even if you can’t exactly explain why.”

  The man and the boy still grasped each other’s right hands. Kraik tentatively shook hands again. Virdon nodded. “Perhaps, in the old days, when two new ‘friends’ met, they held each other’s right hands so they couldn’t hit each other with their weapons.”

  Kraik accepted this explanation for a few moments. Then he said in a solemn voice, “That’s a pretty good idea, if the friend doesn’t have a knife in his left hand.”

  Virdon laughed briefly. “You cover all bases, don’t you?” he said.

  Kraik looked puzzled again. “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It isn’t important.”

  “You’ve done that all day. ‘Cover all bases.’ All day, you’ve said things that sound as if they should mean something, but when I think about them, they don’t.”

  “It’s a bad habit I have,” said Virdon. “It’s something that I just can’t help. Never mind, though.” The boy dropped his hand and nodded. Virdon started gathering some more scraps of wood for the fire, and Kraik followed behind him. “Do you have any parents, Kraik?” asked Virdon.

  Behind him, the boy shook his head “no.” Of course, Virdon did not hear an answer, and he straightened up and turned around. He started to ask again, but Kraik’s repeated head-shaking stopped him abruptly. Virdon was about to continue the conversation, but instead he walked to the fire and tossed his wood in. He thought about how difficult it must be for a young boy alone in such a harsh world.

  There was an uncomfortable silence in the room for several moments. Finally Virdon broke it. “Why were you put in here with me?” he asked. “That’s the detail I can’t understand. You’re no threat to Urko. My friends don’t even know about you.”

  “I don’t know,” said Kraik, “but I’m glad I’m with you.” Virdon smiled and reached out to touch the boy’s head. Behind him came the sound of the door creaking open. Virdon was startled by the noise and turned quickly. He saw Arn entering, carrying a bulging woven sack.

  “We’re in luck,” she said happily. “Look what I found in a back room.”

  She emptied the sack on the floor. It was filled with food. Kraik immediately moved for it. That was the natural reaction for one who had to fight and steal for his meals.

  Virdon watched him sadly. This is what the human race had become. This is what domination by the apes had reduced the once-proud masters to. It seemed to Virdon that humans, despite all their faults, deserved a better fate.

  Kraik hurried toward the food. He inspected it quickly and reached for what he had chosen. Virdon quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed the food away from Kraik before the boy could stuff it greedily into his mouth. “No!” said Virdon sternly.

  Kraik’s reaction was immediate and angry. He picked up a piece of wood and held it up before him, as a weapon. It was the only thing close to hand that he could grab quickly, as pitiful and inadequate as it was. But the boy’s point was made; Virdon stared at him wordlessly. For a brief, tense moment it seemed as though Kraik were about to swing at Virdon, attacking the astronaut for the food. Virdon realized that the situation had become a crisis; more than food was on the line here, and he knew that he would have to proceed with caution.

  “Take it easy, Kraik,” said Virdon. “That’s not going to solve anything. That’s a lesson we never learn. But think about this, instead. If you eat all the food now, what about tomorrow? Maybe one of the reasons you and your people are in such bad times is because you and they never think about tomorrow.”

  Kraik sneered. His whole attitude had become contemptuous of the man he had so respected earlier. It was clear that this strange blond man knew nothing about life. Kraik felt that he, himself, knew more than Virdon. “I’m hungry now,” he said. “I don’t care about tomorrow.”

  “You will,” said Virdon, “tomorrow.”

  Kraik thought about that idea for a moment, not easing his guarded position. After a while, Virdon could tell that the boy was beginning to accept what he was saying. Virdon relaxed just the slightest bit. “Let Arn portion out a little of it to each of us,” said the blond man. “That way, we’ll all be sharing the same. That’s the way it should be. Then tomorrow we can really cook ourselves up a meal.”

  Kraik thought about that for a few more seconds. Then, slowly, he lowered his makeshift club and tossed it aside. Virdon took a step to him and smiled. He put his arm around Kraik’s shoulders, showing the boy that Virdon felt good about it—almost as though he’d just taught his own son something.

  Virdon and Kraik sat down on the floor beside Arn; the woman smiled at what Virdon had been able to accomplish. She began to portion out some of the food, watching Virdon’s face. She wondered what emotions the strange man felt; she had no way of knowing that the situation was beginning to stir memories of Virdon’s own family, just as Zaius said it would.

  The day ended, and the sun disappeared behind the rows of buildings to the west. Outside the building that Urko and Zaius had chosen as their headquarters, a uniformed gorilla guard stood watching. He guarded the entrance to the building, and the flaming torch beside the door cast strange shadows on the scene. The gorilla did not have enough imagination to notice the flickering shadows. He had been ordered to guard the building, and that was all that was important to him.

  Inside the building, in the spar
sely furnished room that Urko had selected as his base of operations, torches on the walls dimly illuminated swatches of the floor. A good deal of the room was sunken in impenetrable gloom. Urko was talking to his Captain, instructing the subordinate in the precise orders which Urko had worked out to his own satisfaction. While this conversation continued, the two gorillas were interrupted by the arrival of Zaius. The orangutan administrator said nothing until Urko and the Captain finished their discussion.

  “We start at daylight,” said Urko.

  “Yes, sir,” said the Captain.

  “I’ll want all the soldiers you can spare.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Urko turned away from the Captain. His voice was gruff and slightly weary. “That’s all,” said the gorilla general.

  The Captain, still impressed despite himself to be in the presence of the supreme commander of the gorilla forces, saluted, turned, and left the conference chamber. When the ape had shut the door behind him, Zaius glanced at Urko, a quizzical expression on his face.

  “Are you planning a war party?” asked Zaius.

  Urko laughed mirthlessly. “A search party, Zaius, for the chimpanzee, Galen, and that nuisance of a human being, Burke. I don’t care where he came from or what he knows. He’s still a human being and deserves to be treated like one. You do it your way; I’ll do it mine. Section by section, building by building.”

  Night shaded the crumbling edifice of the scientific institute. Through fissures in the ceiling, stars were visible. A chill evening wind blew through the chinks in the walls, but the man and the ape at work inside did not seem to notice these discomforts. The container for the battery still rested on the makeshift work table. Now, though, it was half-filled with clear liquid. A very weary Burke leaned against the bench, working with the copper tubing. He sighed deeply, put down the copper, and slumped down to the floor to rest for a few moments. Galen glanced at him, a worried expression on his face. Then the chimpanzee crossed to pick up the container. He almost knocked the stolen rifle down in his own fatigue.

  “Don’t touch it!” cried Burke. “That’s sulphuric acid. It’d burn a hole right through your hand.”

  Galen looked at the container with greater respect. “Are you ready to put it together with the copper? Then we can see if it will work.”

  Burke staggered slightly against the work table. He rubbed his eyes. “In the morning,” he said. “I’m beat.”

  Galen looked at Burke with an amused expression. “If you were to ask me, I’d say you were delaying.”

  “I can’t think of a single thing in the world that would motivate me to ask you,” said Burke.

  “You’re delaying,” said the chimpanzee.

  “Someone has to,” said Burke wearily. He opened his eyes and glanced at Galen. Then, tiredly, he closed his eyes again. Galen smiled gently, slumping down beside his friend.

  “Who knows?” said Galen. “Maybe he will be here by morning.”

  Burke opened his eyes again, glanced at Galen, and held up his crossed fingers.

  Inside the castle prison, a fire was burning cheerfully. After a moment, Virdon joined Arn and Kraik by its side. He squatted down on the dusty floor and joined the other two in eating the hot meal that the woman and boy had finished preparing. They ate in silence for several moments. Finally Virdon turned to Arn. “It’s very good,” he said. “Thanks.”

  “Half of the thanks ought to go to Kraik,” said Arn. “He showed me some interesting tricks and things to do with old food.”

  “Thank you, Kraik,” said Virdon.

  The boy only nodded, wordlessly. He was busily eating, not taking time off to speak.

  “It’s very good, Arn and Kraik,” said Virdon. “Thanks, again. I’m glad to hear that it was a community effort.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” said Arn.

  “I want more,” said Kraik.

  Arn dished out a second portion to Kraik, then noticed that Virdon had stopped eating and was lost in thought for a moment. Arn could never tell what Virdon was thinking about when the man got lost in his private thoughts. “Something doesn’t taste good to you, Virdon?” she asked.

  Virdon shook his head vigorously. “No, no, not at all Arn. This is a wonderful meal. It’s amazing how hunger can make gourmet food out of the simplest things. I was just thinking about my friends. If they have enough to eat.”

  He shook off the thought. It served no purpose to make idle speculations along those lines. Things would work out one way or another, and all the worry in the world would not change it. He went back to eating. Arn and Kraik exchanged glances.

  “These friends,” said Kraik, “where are they?”

  “You’re better off if I don’t tell you,” said Virdon.

  “But I’d like to . . .”

  Virdon stared over his bowl at the young boy for a few seconds. “Kraik,” he said at last, “if the apes ever thought you knew, they’d tear you apart to get the information. That wouldn’t be fair to you, or to my friends. I’ll keep the information inside me, because I’m confident that, whatever Urko has planned, he won’t get the information from me.”

  Kraik’s expression hardened. “I don’t care,” he said. “I thought we were friends. I thought we could share things together. I’ve never had anyone like you before. I don’t see what harm it could do if you were just to tell me where your friends are. Perhaps me or my friends could help them.”

  Arn interrupted quickly. She could understand the situation much better than the young boy. “He’s trying to protect us, Kraik. It’s not that he doesn’t want you to know. But if you don’t have the information, you can’t be hurt by the gorilla guards. Can’t you see that? Us. He’s protecting us.”

  For a long moment, Arn stared at Kraik, hoping that her words would convince the hostile boy. Kraik could not meet her powerful, level gaze. He lowered his eyes. Then Arn glanced back at Virdon, with a growing sense of warmth. Everything about this strange man seemed honorable and upright.

  “You are a very good man, Alan,” she said softly. The words were difficult to speak; she had never addressed but one other man in such a way, in all of her life. “You are like Tomar was.” Tears in her eyes threatened to spill out and run down her cheek. She fought them back.

  Virdon heard her words with a rare, long-forgotten thrill of pleasure. “And you’re a good woman, Arn,” he said. “Like . . .” His voice trailed off. He stopped himself and the line of thought that he had begun to pursue. “You’re a very good woman,” he repeated lamely. The two adults looked at each other for a moment, neither wishing to say anything further, each feeling their relationship building.

  Another day began. The sun rose above the shattered buildings, pouring down its warming rays upon the few human and ape creatures abroad. Otherwise the city was deserted. Through the empty streets came the echoing clop of horses’ hooves. Urko was personally leading several squads of gorilla guards as they made an intensive building-by-building search through the city. As they proceeded, several men, haggard, starving, poorly clothed, were dragged as suspects from buildings and shown to Urko, who impatiently rejected them. He had no interest at all in these filthy creatures. There were only two individuals in the city whom he had any desire to meet. These poor creatures captured by the gorillas weren’t the fugitives; they were permitted to scuttle away to safety.

  Galen was hidden behind a mound of rubble, carefully looking ahead and off toward the searching gorillas. He watched them for another moment, then turned and retreated back into the rubble and hurried away from the scene.

  Meanwhile, back inside the scientific institute, the first bright shafts of sunlight beamed down on Virdon, who was still curled up uncomfortably on the floor. He rose, stretched, and began the final preparations. He had almost completed the battery. He tested it and got a spark. It worked.

  Burke did not hear the entrance of Galen, as the chimpanzee somewhat clumsily upset the piles of debris in the outer hall. Galen entered the w
ork area and quickly moved toward Burke. It would have been obvious that Galen was bearing important news, but Burke was too concerned with his own success to notice.

  “It works!” cried Burke exultantly. “After all these hours of frustration, I made the doggone thing work!”

  Galen interrupted in an agitated voice. “We haven’t got much more time,” he said worriedly. “Gorillas are going into every building. They’ve started moving in this direction. We’re sure to be discovered here. We’ll have to think of something different.”

  Burke considered the problem. This was just the kind of incident that he had hoped might not interfere with their work. The gorillas always had a knack for disturbing them just on the verge of success. “The battery’s ready to be hooked up,” said Burke. “How much time do we have?”

  “Not much,” said Galen. “They know exactly what they’re looking for. Us.”

  In the alcove, the projector machine stood on its pedestal in the niche. If the gorillas arrived first, the machine was as good as dead for all eternity.

  Inside the castle prison, Virdon was seated in the warm glow from a shaft of sunlight. He was whittling a model airplane out of a piece of wood. Kraik was crouched down beside him, watching, fascinated.

  “What are you doing?” asked Kraik.

  “I’m whittling,” said Virdon. “I used to love to whittle when I was a boy.”

  “Well, then, what are you making?”

  Virdon held the piece of wood out at arm’s length, giving it a long, critical examination. He started trimming some of the bumps and ridges. “It’s an airplane,” he said at last. “A flying machine.” Virdon held the plane and zoomed it through the air, near Kraik’s head. The boy laughed.

  “An . . . airplane?” asked the boy.

  “Sure. We had them all the time in my day,” said Virdon.

  Kraik smiled to indicate that he didn’t really believe this.

  “I don’t understand you again,” said Kraik. “I understand the gorillas better than I understand you. Flying machine? Will it really fly?”