Road to Rhohas – Chapter 6

Galen ducked into a dark corner as soon as he slid through the open window of the home. 'A little B&E' Burke called it the first time that they snuck in somewhere they shouldn't to snatch something they needed. Virdon told him it was short for Breaking and Entering; Pete corrected him saying it stood for 'Bustin' in & Exitin' out. Mission Fail if you don't leave with the goods in your hand.' In any case, he resigned himself months ago that if the State was going to consider him a criminal, he might as well follow his recalcitrant friends in their misdeeds when it was needed.

'Hey, wait a minute, Galen,' Virdon had protested, 'we were hardly running with street gangs before we got here.' Burke only grinned sheepishly and wagged his eyebrows.

This time, he didn't sneak in for the 'goods.' He found a secluded corner to hide and waited. When they made it to the town, Alan had them first go to the place Galen had recommended for their camp to hide their belongings as well as give themselves a secluded meeting spot should something happen to separate them. From there, Galen took them to his favorite spot to look down on the town: a shaded hilltop on the southeastern side with an unobstructed view overlooking the town square. The trees had grown a little taller, and the town a little bigger from when he was here five years ago. And by the size of the crowds gathering in the square, the population had boomed. Virdon and Burke lay next to him, eyes focused on the scene.

The wooden cage erected near the center of the square was newly built, but the purpose was as old as one individual's desire to control another. Six dejected humans were being herded into a line at the center of the cage. Voices, ape and human, rose with anticipation. They had arrived in time to witness whatever would follow. Galen scanned for the huge figure of Urko but could not find him. Many gorilla troopers, far too many for a typical day in Rhohas, roamed the square taking positions around the outside edges of the crowd as well as patrolling within. Although he could not deny that this appeared to be an unusual event that might have been initiated by the Chief of Security, he hoped with every hope he could muster that Pete was mistaken, and their enemy remained days away in Central City.

A loud thud quieted the voices and eyes turned to the Prefect's office. Galen's desperate chirp joined in Pete's whispered, "Damn it!" as Urko strode triumphantly into the square, stopping outside the cage. Galen's face clouded with fear as he saw his cousin, Gressa, her shoulders stooped, her head down, follow in his wake. Osmur, her husband, maintained the posture of the Prefect, his back pulled straighter than normal, his hands fisted at his side. He stood one step back from the powerful gorilla, eyes front. An orangutan scurried after them and seemed to move back and forth in a futile attempt to find a position near the powerful ape who had taken charge of the quiet mining town.

Galen brought his own fisted hand to his mouth to still his disquieted moans. Urko proceeded to announce his intentions to discover a rebellion in the town, his forceful voice carrying in the stillness of the late afternoon. Incongruously, he had the humans released, one by one. He deliberated slowly, milking every moment to build tension. Galen knew he had a plan. A terrible plan. Glances toward his friends confirmed what he already knew. Neither would stand by and watch whatever Urko intended without trying to stop him. Walking away never entered the equation no matter how great the risk. The firm set of Alan's shoulders, the studied look of his face: he would scrutinize the scene, gather information, and respond with a detailed plan of his own. He would watch, learn, act, adjust and continue until the end he sought was accomplished. No other outcome would be acceptable.

For Pete, the anger was building in him and soon he would react in the moment. His eyes spoke more clearly than his voice. The words Burke used were often confusing, and he used them a lot, often flippantly and with claimed indifference. He used words as a distraction, Galen had decided. Because his eyes always gave him away. Warm, caring, concerned along with stubborn, determined, indignant flashed out as steady as the light signals that dotted the hills throughout the countryside, revealing his inner thoughts in spite of the words he spoke. Pete's talk had been quieted since Wanda, except in his dreams when he screamed out as his nightmares wrenched him awake. But his eyes, so dark, acted like an open door to see inside. That's what frightened Galen: his eyes had been silent since Wanda, too, except at night when they churned with desperation and fear. Now, they burned with a fire that warned he might run head-long into the square with no thought of the consequences as long as he was moving to—to do something.

Galen cleared his throat as he observed Gressa press her body against her husband, taking his hand. He seethed with a need to do something as well.

"Let me go down there," he said quietly. Both men jerked their eyes in his direction; Pete ready to follow him, Alan taking charge.

"Urko couldn't know we're here, Galen, but would know you immediately," the colonel overrode him.

"Not to the square. I can go to my cousin's home. They live on the far side of town. Osmur likes walking through to observe. Thinks it makes him a better Prefect. I can get to them, unseen. Find out what is happening, so we aren't guessing. So, we can do something without making things worse." The chimp patted the dark-haired man's hand knowingly. Pete scowled and turned his attention back to the cage. Alan paused for a moment, then gave him a curt nod.

"We'll meet you back at the campsite. Don't take too long."

The chimp scuttled backwards along the ground toward the far side of the hill. When he was sure he was no longer visible to anyone in the valley, he rose and ran through the back areas to his cousin's home. He heard shouts go up but other than a glance back, he moved without stopping. He passed no one and slipped through the window with ease.

As he waited, he remembered Burke's words from the day before, 'Then you don't know how she feels about her cousin gone rogue.' Galen wondered then, as he did now, would she welcome a renegade into her home, especially one that appears to have brought Urko to their door? His answer back to himself was absolute. Welcome or not, he and his friends would find a way to keep Gressa out of danger. He would not allow his choices to bring harm to her or Osmur. He was not the scamp of an ape that stood in this room five years ago. Hard lessons about the nature of truth had been taught in the last few months. One of the more important lessons he had learned, knowing the truth, and stopping the lies, were worth the fight. He sighed deeply thinking of his friends, suddenly very grateful knowing he wouldn't have to face this fight on his own.

Pete moved in tight lines, back and forth, in the small glen Galen had sheltered them in. The sun was gone, and what few rays of light that remained were quickly absorbed into the thick boughs that ringed the clearing. Alan watched him, eyes down, as he cut at a second young sapling encroaching into the open area. The first was tossed near his pack, recovered from the brush where it had been hidden before they left for the town. Burke's and Galen's remained out of sight. Pete had been too agitated upon their return to the campsite to do anything more than pace and keep his curses to an indistinct grumble. The wood was difficult to cut with his knife, but it needed to be firm for the purpose he had in mind. He stopped, returned to the whetting stone he left out on top of his backpack. He sat, leaning against a tree with the arm holding the stone braced against his knee as he dragged the blade against the surface.

The younger man stopped; his balled hands pressed firmly against his hips, his jaw locked so tight Alan could see the bulges in his neck. He kept his hand moving in a steady rhythm, the brush of the blade accenting Pete's heavy breaths.

"How long, Alan?"

"Give him time."

Pete dropped his chin to his chest. Once Galen had slipped away, they had observed as Urko entered the cage and beat the unnamed humans. Unnamed, but no question why they had become the target of the silverback's wrath. 'Displacement working overtime,' Pete had murmured out loud. A few words spoken in the town square had drifted to their ears, and along with the reaction of the Prefect and the crowd, it was clear that the gorilla achieved something of worth to him. The frantic woman dragged to the cage revealed something, causing the crowd to be dispersed out of the square.

"We have to go, Pete." Alan had tugged his arm as the young astronaut watched Urko move purposefully back toward the two remaining, helpless men. A memory flashed as the gorilla yanked the dark-haired stranger to his feet and slapped him solidly, but not allowing him to fall.

Urko's gloved hand snared him by his shirt and hauled him from the turntable. Only the hand of the gorilla gave him a secure hold against the revolving emptiness of space that meant to suck him into the vastness of nothing. He couldn't stand, couldn't even keep his head up, and as the gorilla's backhand moved in slow motion toward his face, he clung to him—to him! —clung to Urko—his head buried against his shoulder, his fingers gripped at his vest, his belt, anything he could feel, desperate to hold on to something, anything, panicked that he might be dragged into the yearning of the blackness. Exploding pain threw him back even as his frantic hands grappled to cling to him— to URKO!

"Now," Alan's command left no room to argue. Pete clamped his eyes closed and ducked his head away as the beating in the cage continued. He bent around to follow his commander; his gut twisted with guilt as they jogged back into the woods ahead of any scrutiny from the townsfolk and guards spreading in all directions away from the town square.

In the glen, Pete looked up enough to watch the blade in Alan's hand swish across the stone. When Virdon stopped to pour water over the edge and wiped it clean, he tried to speak to him again but instead of the reasoned statement he heard in his head, the words rushed out in a shouted demand.

"We need to help them, Alan!"

The colonel's face surged from quiet control to dark warning. "We will wait."

Pete took two aggressive steps in his direction, a fury exploding in his eyes. "Wait until the gorillas have had their fun and moved on to the next beating! Wait until the men they're targeting are nothing but bloody pulps! Wait until Urko is lighting torches to burn the place to the ground!" Wait until she has the names she wants so they can butcher them all! He bit off the last before the words escaped.

Alan was on his feet, the blade flashing in Pete's direction as Virdon jabbed it toward him for emphasis. "Enough! Not another word!" The command in his voice caused his junior officer to jerk back as if he was pushed by an unseen force, but as Burke opened his mouth to yell back, the colonel growled, "You are out of control, Major."

Pete's face melted from anger into anguish as his scattered thoughts found a voice. "I can't—," he begged, "I can't let her control me!"

"Who?! My god, Pete—you have to tell me what's going on in your head. You aren't thinking clearly."

"She said she would own me and everyday another piece slips away into her hands. I have to fight back. I have to do something to stop this! I don't know how else to fight back!"

"Who, Pete? Who?" Alan kept his voice low as he took cautious steps toward his friend.

"Wanda! She's alive in my head. She never left." He banged at his forehead so hard Alan saw a red mark erupt on the skin. The cold hand in Alan's gut squeezed as he watched in horror the face, the body, the mind of his friend strained to the limits by trauma, precariously held together by unraveling threads threatening to burst apart, and he had not a clue how to help him.

"It's my fault those people are in danger," Pete's hissed words reached through the roaring of Alan's ears as he wracked his brain for some guidance hidden in all the damned training he had been through to prepare him to lead soldiers, overcome obstacles to the mission, prepare for the unknowns of space travel, but not a single word about salvaging his best friend from days of torture at the hands of a sadistic ape.

"It's my fault that those men are being targeted by Urko. It's my fault that every human in this town is at risk. I have to protect them, Alan! I have to do something!" The younger man rocked on his feet; his fists pressed against his temples. Alan drove the knife into the ground, took the final step to him, and brought Pete's hands down, then gripped his upper arms. He pulled him within inches of where he stood, looking him full in the face. Pete tilted his head to one side. His troubled brown eyes met Alan's calm blue. His young friend appeared to clutch at that connection between them forcing Alan into deep measured breaths, afraid to blink for fear he could lose him to whatever dangerous force was driving him.

"Pete, we will always do what we can, but you can't save the whole world. Not every bad thing has your name on it. You can't carry around that kind of guilt. We are doing something, Pete, but we need more intel. Urko will take it all if we rush in blindly. I'm not letting you throw your life away tilting at windmills because we got dumped in this insane world. There were plenty enough victims here before we ever showed up. I won't let you be one of them." Alan swallowed hard seeing a moist glow in his friend's eyes as Pete hurriedly looked down. Virdon's gut wrenched when he realized he was too late.

Alan felt the tension in Pete as he squeezed his thin arms firmly and lowered his head trying to make eye contact. "We will help them, Pete. I promise you that." And I will find a way to help you. I promise that, too.

The young man pulled back; his eyes remained downcast. Alan reluctantly let go.

Pete took several measured breaths before he calmly agreed, "Ok, Al. Your way. We wait 'til Galen gets back."

"We're not sitting on our hands here. While we wait, I am making something we can use as weapons. This has to be a fight we have a chance of winning," the colonel found himself justifying his decision as he gestured toward the sapling he was cutting down and the one tossed on the ground. His junior officer nodded.

"Ok," Pete took a deep breath as he crossed his arms tightly across his chest. His voice took on a rambling quality. "Wait. Waiting for Galen. Sounds like a boring play I saw once. But just standing still—I can't do that. Umm, I need to clear my head. I gotta move. Don't wanna wage a war on two fronts," he murmured with a weak grin. "I'm going to find the river. Galen said it wasn't far. Get some water. Cool off. Ok?"

The blond head nodded hesitantly, accepting that Burke's control seemed to have returned and was seeking approval before he left, but that brought back the blatant disregard he had displayed just earlier that day. He pointed at his junior officer as he spoke. "No more repeats of the last couple of days, Pete. We do this together. No more arbitrary decisions on your own. I expect you to come back ready to be a part of this team." As soon as the words left his mouth, Virdon regretted it. The colonel had won out over the friend, and the flinch from the brown eyes confirmed that it was a painful punch. The young man turned without a sound and took purposeful strides out of the clearing.

"Pete!" Alan called to the stiff back barely visible in the darkening night.

"What?" his exasperation was clear as he glanced back over his shoulder.

"Watch your six. There's a whole garrison of gorillas out there—"

Unseen by his friend, Pete shivered as his eyes darted through the trees. "You, too, buddy," everything-is-just-peachy Pete answered back. His long legs moved him away quickly before Alan could see the dread rising in his eyes.

"How dare you!" Osmur's voice boomed. "How dare you jump out like a spirit in the night while everything precious to me hangs in the balance!"

Galen winced, grateful that the Prefect's stone home, one of the few in the town, would dull the sound from carrying to any jittery neighbors.

"We didn't know, Osmur," Galen pleaded, "we couldn't know what Urko intended. It is by sheer chance that we are here—"

"A mere coincidence that Urko will laugh about as he tightens the noose around my neck. He came here to destroy my career for allowing a human insurrection, and instead he gets to hang me for harboring the traitor he has been seeking! Hiding him in my home! And where are your pets!? Bring them in so we can all share in the joke!" Osmur waved his hands in the air.

"My friends," Galen corrected, his voice soft, his hands tapping together as he looked at Gressa. She offered him a wan smile in comfort. He spoke more firmly. "They are my friends. And since we are here, we want to help."

"Because of your… friends, at least two of my humans, innocent humans, are doomed to die." The Prefect glared at the young chimpanzee through the gloom of the darkened living area where the three of them stood. As soon as Gressa and Osmur entered, as soon as Galen confirmed that they were alone, he stepped from the shadows into the dim room announcing his presence. Gressa had gasped, then wrapped him in a tight hug.

Osmur exploded.

"Not because of my friends," Galen countered, "they have no hand in this. Because of Urko—."

"Yet Urko whispers their names as if he is lost in madness. His troops gossip. You came from Central City, did you not?"

"Yes," he admitted. Gressa glanced at her husband, then took her cousin's arm and pulled him to a seat on the couch. She patted his arm and then began to light the candles in the room.

"It will look suspicious if we keep hiding in the darkness," she answered Osmur's glowering look.

"One of my friends was captured," Galen continued.

"Burke. The one called Burke." The elder chimp fell into his favorite chair, leaning the side of his head against his raised palm.

"Yes," the fugitive was puzzled that Osmur was aware of their experience.

"Some of the guards complained within my hearing that it was his escape that brought them here. They are being punished for whatever blame Urko wants to avoid," his cousin-in-law sounded tired, the fire gone. "And it seems, so are we—for being related to you."

"For that, I am truly sorry. Both of you." Galen's nose twitched uncomfortably as Gressa snuggled onto the couch next to him, taking his hand. "Burke was held for days. Tortured. Urko intended to destroy his mind, but we were able to get him away only minutes before he would have prolonged the torture with something he euphemistically described as a brain operation."

"You and the other human? Virdon?"

"Yes."

"You risked your life? For humans?"

"For my friends," Galen affirmed. "I brought us here to escape from the City, from Urko. Burke needs time to… heal."

"And what of Aunt Ann, Uncle Yalu?" Gressa asked quietly.

"They are well. Very well, thank-you," he patted her hand. "But that's not exactly what you meant, is it?" She blinked her eyes slowly. Galen nodded then answered her unspoken question. "They helped us. Once they met Virdon and Burke and recognized that they are not the danger Zaius and Urko claim them to be." For Ann's protection, Galen purposefully withheld the depth of his mother's assistance, and the feelings she developed for Pete and Alan.

"Speaking of my friends, I must get back to them. Tell me, please. What can we do to help?"

"Turn yourself over to Urko," Osmur replied firmly, stiffening in his chair.

"He will kill them. Kill me," Galen stated without recrimination.

"Osmur," his wife interjected, "if Urko finds out Galen is here, he will say you knew all along. Turning themselves in only makes our situation more perilous."

The chimpanzee met his wife's eyes, and then looked away. "Then it's best you leave. Get as far away as possible so nothing about you is laid on our doorstep."

"Perhaps that sounds like a reasonable answer," Galen acknowledged with a sad grin, "But you see, my friends are not like the humans you know. We're going to help so best tell me what you need, because those two friends of mine won't turn away."

The Prefect grunted as his nose twitched. He readjusted in his chair and began to speak his train of thought. "Urko's position as Chief of Security is being challenged by a faction of the Council. Perhaps Members of the High Council, as well. Maybe even Zaius. Urko has tried to challenge him enough that the talk of their skirmishes has raised concerns among my fellow Prefects here in the Borderlands. Concerns that Urko may have designs of his own for Council Chair. Urko's ability to function at that high level of authority for the good of all apes is being questioned. I heard the guards say that your, umm, friend, Burke made a fool of Urko, and just when he planned to put an end to him, he escaped from under his very nose. It is assumed that the Renegade Ape Galen and human criminal, Virdon, played a part, but they were never caught in the first place. The pair evaded the entire City guard under Urko's command. Two simple humans and a foolish young chimp have outsmarted the great and powerful Urko."

Galen snorted out loud at the comment, drawing a wink from Gressa, and a scowl from her husband. Osmur stared past them allowing his ruminations to continue. "Under pressure, Urko needs wagging tongues to speak of an accomplished Security Chief, wielding a firm hand over a weak Prefect who allowed a human rebellion to grow under his watch. I think any relative of yours would have sufficed." Osmur cut a wry look at Galen's apologetic wince. "He needs to prove with a resounding show of force that no other can wear the helmet of Security Chief by bringing this nonexistent insurrection to a bloody end. He has chosen two of my humans to pay the price for his glory, but he has now discovered another weapon to attack me."

"The Circle," the young chimpanzee interjected, pulling forward in his chair. "He discovered Trayus' Circle." Galen had considered it a harmless novelty at the time, a human teaching other humans. Although he would not admit it to Osmur just yet, he knew with certainty that Zaius—who may have looked the other way five years ago—would now squash the concept under his heel. Virdon and Burke's crash landing from another time when humans ruled brought proof of a world the orangutan sought to hide. With their escape, he feared the truth of that knowledge would spread.

"Yes," the Prefect confirmed.

"Oh my—," Galen closed his eyes as a revelation dawned, then opened them to face his family. "Trayus—the human with the missing hand and the light-colored hair—"

"That's right. Why do—"

The three jerked as a loud banging at the front door interrupted any further discussion.

"Prefect! Prefect!" a voice called, and suddenly the door flew open.

Galen bounded to his feet with nowhere to run as Gressa and Osmur moved to one another. Judan rushed into the room and froze, staring at the stranger in their midst. All locked into place for a long moment. The orangutan's eyes began to narrow suspiciously.

"And who are you?" Judan demanded.

Galen's mouth opened and closed as his thoughts whirled. Perhaps it was the stuttered beating of his heart or the need for prayers to somebody's god, but he shocked himself when the words, spoken in an accented baritone voice, sluiced from his mouth. "I am Eurusi, Spiritual Advisor for the Prefect and his wife. The Spirits guided me here. The Spirits heard the pleas of many voices; thus, they sent me."

The black bear curled in the brush, his tongue lapping uselessly toward the burning of his shoulder that he could not reach. The fire in his chest had grown into an agony his mind could not escape. Survival prevented him from the howls that would have alerted his rivals and potential predators of his location, but there were times it overwhelmed him, and the loud, lengthy scream carried for miles.

He was large for his species, a little over four feet in height at his wide shoulders. He ruled his territory with authority for many warm cycles and had few interlopers attempt to usurp his kingdom. He was in his preferred region near the great water that provided slim, shimmering streaks that glided in the shallows. An easy toss laid them in his mouth, and he chewed the treat almost daily. The occasional bounding creature filled his belly when they foolishly crossed his path. An abundance of the growing things provided steady meals that he pulled from the ground with his great claws. The noisy things which came into the forest with rolling thunder, he avoided.

The day the pain came, he had dug into the soil to upend a bush filled with the bright colored balls. He had settled his great girth to the cool ground and was idly chewing his meal, one paw resting on the captured bush to hold it in place. He heard the noisy things approach with the thunder, but they remained far enough from where he rested, he decided to wait. He was hidden in the brush. He could not see them, so they did not know of his presence. He nibbled and listened. He detected the splintering sounds of falling growing things and the rackety calls of the creatures, as annoying as the endless chatter of the flying things. Their odors, some with a musky scent similar to others covered with fur and some without a fur covering bearing a cloyingly pungent scent, drifted to him.

The crackle of the brush coming in his direction forced him to rise. He considered leaving but his muscles tensed. An intruder challenged his rule, and no hint of weakness could be revealed, or his next rival could chase him forever from his home. When the noisy thing stumbled upon him, he roared a warning, giving it the opportunity to flee, but it made a screaming noise indicating it was prepared to fight.

The bear lurched forward, its great paw striking the noisy thing down and a second blow rolled it to him. The satisfying odor of blood came to his nostrils, and he rose on his hind legs and roared again. He could hear movement in the woods as another approached but the noisy thing recoiled beneath him. He prepared to drop and finish the creature when a banging sound erupted, and the pain rocked his wide chest. He landed on his front paws and looked for his enemy. The noisy thing curled with its head buried in its front limbs. Another bang brought fire to his shoulder, and his howl tore through his throat. He twisted looking for the invisible enemy that struck him. Finding nothing he could strike, he ran.

More banging sounds followed but he avoided new pain. He lumbered to a hidden place, a place unseen by his rivals. He went to the cave where he slept in the cold months and had cowered—cowered, fear rose as he realized the sensation— in its depths while the light disappeared, and the hush of night came. His rivals did not find him, but the pain did.

He hid in his cave as the great light crossed the sky until thirst and hunger drove him as intensely as the pain. He stumbled to the ever-flowing water as the sun was shrinking and darkness returning. He took himself into the waters and drank his fill but was unable to pull a shimmering thing to his mouth. His strong front leg had to bear his weight and the injured one would not move as he desired. The things skittered away, taunting him.

The bear tossed his great head recognizing that any rival could defeat him until the pain stopped. He would need to avoid those who would challenge him until his strength returned. He moved into the protection of the brush and dropped with a huff. He lay his head on his paws and let sleep touch his tired mind.

His head jerked up. Night had come. Something came near. A noisy thing—it moved toward the great water—

He found the river easily enough despite the density of the underbrush and moonless night, but Pete felt hopelessly lost as he paced along the bank. The steady lap of the water against the muddy shoreline was overpowered by the incessant whispers that muddled his mind. As he had walked through the woods, his own litany of 'we have to do something' kept cadence with his steady stride until he reached the water's edge. With no moonlight, he was unable to see the far bank of the river, but the deep churning of its flow suggested it was wide. The shoreline was relatively flat where he stood with easy access to the water.

His vision had adjusted enough to allow him to pick his way around the scattered limbs and rocks without incident. His shoes sunk into the mud when he bent to dip his hand in the swishing edge of the river. The grains of sand influenced the taste of the water while giving it more texture than he would have preferred. A mild sense of disquiet filled him when he realized in his haste to get away from Alan before any more words he never wanted anyone else to hear escaped his mouth, he had left the waterskins back at the camp. A whole river flowed next to him but a nagging worry of being without water prickled in his gut.

A tickle of disembodied voices touched his ears as he stood. When he stepped back onto firmer ground, and began anxious pacing back and forth, the chill of darkness descended, the taunting of memories flared, and he flung them away as they burned when he held them too long. An insidious spin crept along the edges of his vision, ripples widening. His senses invaded; the pounding in his head started at the base of his neck wrapped in the smell of gorillas who pinched his arms as they grabbed him with an inescapable awareness that a fist was lowering, and blackness would follow.

Pete shook his head against the sense of falling. Mistake. Vertigo draped itself around him, knives stabbed into his eyes, and he stumbled a few feet before his knees struck the earth, his fingers digging into the dirt. He retched the dirty water and whatever else remained in his stomach into a puddle. Slimy tendrils hung from his mouth, and nostrils, his head bobbing as he tried to catch his breath before the next wave of dry heaves took over. When it finally passed, he rolled to his back away from the stench of the regurgitation and tried to find some relief in the stars.

Tell me the names—His body began to shiver as her voice entered, softly at first. Almost gentle. A furred hand brushed against his face. He jerked away and slapped at the air above him.

"No!" he heard his voice yell. He rolled back to his side and pushed himself to his feet, his hands gripped into fists. Wanda's face leered at him; her glasses perched on her nose. She leaned closer. The smell of her threatened to turn his guts inside out again.

You will be whatever I tell you to be!

"I will be nothing you want you fucking bitch! Get outta my goddamn head!" Pete shouted, pounding his temple with the heel of one hand.

The names—the Names—THE Names—THE NAMES— Her voice shrieked.

"I don't even know their names! They will die because of me, and I don't even KNOW THEIR NAMES!" he screamed, his body turning in a circle, his eyes jerking unable to settle on any one of the countless stars stretched above him.

A menacing growl accompanied the sudden cracking of the underbrush in the woods. Gorillas! Instinct took over, and Pete threw himself toward the river, thinking he could hide in its depths, swim away. Apes were afraid of the water. His legs floated just on the surface, his torso sinking into the mud. He glanced down and dug his fingers into the soft ground spreading the dark muck across his cheeks, his forehead. He rolled, rubbing his body into the mud to cover his clothing. Then he was still, listening, forcing his breaths to an even pace. His eyes darted along the tree line but saw nothing.

He didn't detect the odor of a gorilla or hear one approach. He held the palms of his hands along the surface of the water to cleanse them of mud then blew warm breath into each cupped hand held next to his mouth to remove the moisture in case he needed to grab and hold on to something so he could fight. Gorillas were nearby, Urko was close. He saw two today—earlier today—they were going to blow up the mine—for Urko. He never had a chance to tell Virdon or Galen—Virdon wouldn't listen. Told him to wait. They were going to kill the miners—for Urko—tonight. He didn't even know their names—

The woods remained quiet.

Pete stealthily levered himself back to his feet. Galen had said the mine used the river to clean the ore it took from the earth. Great wooden troughs were built into the flowing waters and led back to the mine. And the miners who would die—because of him. The young human caked in mud, almost invisible in the moonless night, looked along the overgrown path that led back to their camp where his friends expected him to wait. Colonel's already pissed. How much madder can he get?

"I'm sorry, Alan. I gotta do this," Pete murmured out loud. He hopped to set himself, then trotted along the river to the west.

The black bear returned the fight when the creature yelled its challenge. Against all the pain and agony, he pulled himself up on three legs and answered the call. Exhausted, he lay back in the crushed leaves that provided a cushion from the hard ground. Satisfied, he closed his eyes. He remained the ruler of his territory. The noisy thing had run from him.