Virdon sat up with a start when the prisoners in the other cells started shouting. It took him a moment to make out what they were saying; then he smiled wryly.

"Get the humans out of here, warden! This isn't a zoo!"

"It's unhygienic!"

"We aren't animals, to be put together with them! I want to see my lawyer!"

"They stink!"

"Silence!" A bat banged against doors and bars, and the outrage slowly subsided. A key was pushed into the lock of his door; Virdon got up from his cot and retreated to the far wall.

"There it is, ma'am. Are you sure you want to be alone with it?"

The door swung open to reveal Mika and a matronly chimp who nervously kneaded a handkerchief in her hands. She looked as if she was going to have a nervous breakdown any moment, but she bravely nodded to the warden, although she didn't dare to look at Virdon.

This had to be Lora's mother. To his surprise, Virdon realized that she was afraid of him.

"I'll be right here, ma'am," Mika said and pointed to the wall across from Virdon's cell. "If it makes as much as a move..." He lifted his club meaningfully. Then he looked at Virdon. "You'll speak respectfully to the missus, or you'll taste the full force of the law, if you get my drift." He waited until Virdon had nodded his understanding, then retreated to his post across the corridor.

Virdon returned his gaze to the chimp who was still hovering at the threshold, and tried a reassuring smile. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

The woman lifted fearful eyes to him, but didn't say a word. Virdon brushed his fingertips across his brow; how to ease her distress?

He finally sat down on the floor, hands loosely folded around one knee, and gestured invitingly to his cot. "Please, sit down. There's no need to be afraid - I mean you no harm."

She finally took two steps in and gingerly sat down on the edge of the bunk. Took a deep breath, then another one. When she finally spoke, she couldn't suppress a slight tremble in her voice. "What do you people want with my daughter?"

"They're not my people," Virdon told her, though she shook her head at that. "And I had the impression that she was with the HLF by her own free will."

"That is a lie! You... you kidnapped her!"

"She told me herself that she was working for better human-simian relations." Virdon watched her closely. That last remark had stirred a weary recognition. The woman sighed.

"She was very passionate about the plight of humans. We raised her to care about injustice... equality..." Tears welled up in her eyes. "And now she's the victim of this savagery!"

"Lora is a member of the HLF," Virdon repeated. "Even if they are now using her to put pressure on the prefect, they won't hurt her."

"How can you know that?" Lora's mother was dabbing her eyes. "She's so innocent, she has no idea what she's gotten involved with." Virdon was inclined to agree with her on that last point.

"What if one of the humans approaches her... indecently?" She pressed the handkerchief to her mouth.

Virdon gaped at her. Then he hastily brought his features under control before she could notice. "I... I don't think that will happen..."

"Why not? Now that we're suddenly all people ..." She stared at him indignantly, as if he had just made that outrageous suggestion.

Virdon cast for something to reassure her. "Gres wouldn't allow that. He's very protective of your daughter."

Which was a blatant lie - but why worsen the poor woman's anguish? Virdon leaned slightly forward. "Ma'am... if you have any means to reach the prefect..."

The woman sniffed and looked at him with surprise. "He's my brother. Didn't you know that?"

Virdon stared at her for a moment. Lora was the prefect's niece? So was this the reason he had sent Burke to negotiate? He slowly shook his head. "No, I didn't know. Look, if you could convince your brother to relax those restrictions on the humans... ease their lot a bit... I'm sure the situation would improve - Gres might back off on his demands..."

But the woman was already shaking her head. "Dolan has been trying to persuade him of that in the last few days, but Aken thinks that if he starts to give in, the humans will get more restless, and the rebels even more brazen."

"Your husband must keep trying," Virdon persisted. "Or this will end in bloodshed..."

"He..." The woman began, but turned her head just like Virdon when the door to the jail suddenly burst open. At the opposite wall, Mika straightened; he didn't seem surprised to see two of his comrades stride past him.

The door to the neighbouring cell opened; a quick shuffle, and both Virdon and his visitor gaped at Boone, who was led out of his cell by his guards. Nobody said a word until the door had closed behind them. Then the woman spoke up. "Mika, what... what is going on?"

The warden shrugged, eyeing Virdon with a malicious smile. "Apparently, the rebels thought it funny to set a deadline of their own, and now the prefect is sending them a message. Your friend is going to the block right now." He jerked his chin to the little window of Virdon's cell. "You can watch if you like."

"A... a deadline of their own?" Lora's mother whispered. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Virdon said urgently, "that your husband must speak to your brother again. And be more convincing this time."

"... so, Danny says, 'with this, I can manage fifty lawns in one weekend. We'll be rich in no time!' - yeah, we had to find a new way to school. Good thing I insisted on fake identities right from the start."

Katlin laughed, a happy, carefree sound that didn't really fit into a world ruled by apes. As it turned out, Burke didn't have to hunt her down - he had run into her just outside the door; and then he'd spent the last hour digging in his memory for stories to tease that laughter out again and again... and to keep her there with him, in this dark, dusty hole that Gres had confined him to.

So what if Gres had probably sent her as his warden. Somehow, rummaging through the rotten scraps of his people's past glory wasn't so depressing while she perched on the workbench, dangling one leg, and picking at old wires.

And yeah, that last story had been good, even if he'd had to fiddle around with the details a bit; he didn't want to have to explain what a lawn robot did or how they had come across one in this pre-industrial world.

"It was nice of your master to send you to school," Katlin said thoughtfully.

Oh. Yeah. Or explain why he had gone to school, when only ape kids got to do that, actually.

"He wasn't so bad," Burke murmured, eyes fixed on the gun. "I wish I had a soldering iron..."

"A what?"

Burke shook his head. "Never mind." He smiled at her. "It's nice of you to keep me company in this dusty hole."

"I'm just here for the stories," she teased him. "They're funny, and interesting, even if they're not true."

"Hey!" He put a hand on his chest. "That hurt. Went right through the heart."

Katlin laughed again, and Burke thought he'd like to listen to her all day. Maybe it was because she looked so much like Sondra, reminding him of that old life he had lost... when everything was normal, and right, and apes lived in zoos.

Too bad she'd end up as Gres' cannon fodder sooner or later.

"How did you come to serve Gres?" he asked. "You'd be fit to lead your own resistance."

Katlin frowned at his abrupt change of subject. "No, I wouldn't have been. I didn't know the first thing about military tactics, or how to organize such a big group of people. There's more to it than just sneaking into town at night and smearing paroles on the garrison's walls. You have to feed your people, train them, keep the troublemakers in line..."

"Like the fellow who killed one of Aken's soldiers?" Burke got up and went to the heap of wires in the corner. Maybe he could use some of them to exchange the ones that had been fused together inside the gun...

"Kuma said he had no choice - it was him or them."

Burke selected some wires. "And you believe him."

He glanced over his shoulder at her when she didn't answer immediately. Katlin shrugged. "Of course. He's one of us. Sometimes you can't avoid victims, when you're in a tight situation..."

"Like the prefect's hostages?"

He saw Katlin clench her jaw. "I'm really sorry for your friends, Pete - but this is a war. You don't get to choose if you want to take part or not."

Burke watched her face, the wires in his hand forgotten. "What happened?"

Katlin stared into the distance, suddenly looking tired. "They killed my husband." She glanced up to him. "Do you know how humans are executed around here?" She didn't wait for his answer. "They are beaten to death with a club. Like rats."

She looked away and swallowed. "And the rest of the village is made to watch. Just like you let a dead rat lie around for a few days to send a message to the other rats. It works, both with rats and with humans."

Burke stood there for a moment, stunned. Then he went to sit down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. "I... I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say.

Katlin stiffened, and he let his arm drop away, trying not to feel rejected.

"It was years ago. And I swore to myself, even after that, that I'd never take up arms against them, that I was better than that. But things kept happening, and then you reach a point where you just... can't take it anymore."

"Yeah," Burke said with a heavy voice. Did he know that feeling. If it wasn't for Al, he'd probably have gone on a rampage by now...

He sneaked a sideways glance at her, but she had dipped her head, and her hair was hiding her face from him. It looked soft and fine, shimmering in the torchlight, and he fought the sudden urge to touch it, to see if it really was so soft...

"So promise me you'll tell me the truth at least once," Katlin said suddenly. She lifted her head to look into his eyes, and Burke found he couldn't look away. "Why did you really follow me at my village?"

He thought of Sondra. "You reminded me of someone I once knew."

Her eyes were dark. "Was she killed, too?"

He let out a sharp breath. "No... 's far as I know, she's alright." Dead for centuries - or even longer... so, technically, alright.

"Then what happened?" Katlin's eyes were as soft as her voice now, holding him in place.

Burke shifted uncomfortably. "We just... served different masters," he muttered, feeling like a dirty liar. Well, it was true, wasn't it, with both of them practically married to their careers? So what if Katlin would take his metaphor literally? He just couldn't think of a way to explain his former life to her without giving away the truth, the crazy, fantastical truth, and he didn't know what would be worse: if she thought of him as a pathological liar or a basketcase, or if she actually believed him and realized what mankind had lost.

"Oh." She looked away again. "I'm so sorry. That's always hard."

And suddenly, he wanted to tell her something that was true, from beginning to end, no tricks, no omissions; wanted to get her to understand...

... yeah, what? He couldn't say. He just knew he couldn't let her dismiss him like that.

"My mother was shot when I was sixteen."

Why the hell... of all truths, why did he have to choose that one? What stupid part of his brain had decided that this would be his secret to share?

Katlin turned towards him, but he couldn't move; he just sat there, frozen, mute, too terrified to think.

A slim, warm hand slipped into his, and squeezed it lightly. "Oh, Pete, that's... what did they shoot her for?"

And that question - of course apes would shoot you for something, for violating one of their million rules - somehow jump-started his brain again, although his tongue was still clumsy. "For nothing. She was just... in the wrong place at the wrong time." Drive-by shooting. Mom had been on the way to the store, and actually, he should've gone for groceries, only he wasn't home, he was hanging out with some friends...

Should've been me. Should've been me.

"I'm so sorry, Pete. I know what it's like to lose someone you love."

"It shouldn't have happened." He had somehow lost his voice, it only came out as a whisper.

"No, it shouldn't have." Katlin was whispering, too. Her eyes were still on him, beautiful eyes, dark with his pain.

The world went quiet. Burke felt as if he was falling into the sky, a wide, blue infinity.

I never got around to doing that stratosphere jump...

Then his thoughts went quiet, too.

She brought her other hand up to caress his neck, his hair, his face, so, so gently. As if she cared for him. He had to close his eyes for a second at that thought, shied away from it, but she didn't let go, and he absently put the gun down behind him and cupped her face. Her throat was radiating heat against his palm and he brushed his fingers over it, let them glide down to her collarbone. His free arm slid from her shoulders, down her back, and he pulled her closer-

He didn't know what made him break away - some new instinct he'd developed among the apes, some tingling at the base of his spine that warned him they were no longer alone. He looked up: A gorilla leaned in the doorway, an odd light in his eyes.

Burke blinked. He had seen that ape before... Kuma. The guy who had shot the soldier and then led his comrades to the HFL's hideout in the woods.

"Don't you mind me," Kuma said, a strange smile on his lips. "I know humans are always in heat. Can't help yourselves, can you, and I got used to you rutting in the hallways. Sometimes I even like to watch."

With a start, Burke realized that the glint in Kuma's eye was arousal.

Jesus Christ.

"Go away, Kuma," Katlin said, annoyed. "Can't you find someone else to get off of?" She brushed a stray lock out of her face and gave Burke a sideways glance. Gauging his reaction on the freakout meter? Hell, fifty out of ten!

"How do you even sleep at night?" Burke murmured.

"I lock my door," Katlin said matter-of-factly.

"Gres wants to see you," Kuma said, not at all embarrassed.

Katlin hopped down from the workbench, no trace of emotion on her face. "I'll ask him if he can find a... what did you call that iron?" she didn't look at him, her voice cool and businesslike.

"Soldering iron," Burke muttered, picking up the gun.

"Right." She followed Kuma without looking back.

Burke stared at the wires in his hand.