A/N: In the tv series, the gorillas were the thugs and the chimpanzees were the civilized middle-class. Since we've learned a lot about gorillas and chimps in the meantime, I've taken the liberty to adjust their respective roles in my PotA stories.
But Urko is still the same old badass gorilla he was in the Seventies ;-)
Zana made her way to the institute the following day, almost running into traffic while she was rifling through the files Zaius had given her. Apparently, the humans had been able to hide inside the reservation for a while before they were caught. Zana knew that the tribes of the reservation were notoriously aggressive - some even claimed they were cannibalistic - and wondered how the offworld humans had been able to survive that long.
Not much was known about the tribes, and since the area had been put under quarantine ten years ago, no more field studies had been permitted. She pursed her lips. Perhaps she could persuade the humans to tell her more about their time with the tribe; she'd be able to ease her way in with a neutral topic and add to the institute's knowledge about the Toram tribes. Win-win.
The abandoned wing was even darker than she remembered it from her student days. It hadn't seemed so drab when they were holding their end-of-semester parties there, but without the bands and the wine, it lost much of its appeal. She shook her head as she hurried down the stairs. This was definitely not a permanent solution for these humans.
Her humans. She still had to struggle to wipe the huge grin from her face whenever that thought popped up again. A faint smile was still lingering, though, when she entered the kennel section.
The first thing she noticed was the silence from the kennels; she wasn't quite sure what she had expected, but the total lack of movement or sounds was a bit ominous. She slowly walked down the corridor, peeking into every cage along the way.
It was the second to last cage at the end of the corridor that finally emitted some signs of being occupied, a rhythmic, heavy breathing that made her step falter for a moment. She didn't want to barge into a... sensitive situation. It would be an unconstructive way to start their work together.
She cautiously peeked around the corner. A dark haired human was on the floor, doing push ups. For some reason, it was completely naked, and a faint sheen of sweat was covering its - his, it was a male - back, so apparently he had been at it for a while. That also explained the laboured breathing. He hadn't noticed her yet, his gaze fixed at the floor, and she took the opportunity to appraise him for a moment.
He was in his prime, slim and lithe, and from his build and definition she'd say he was a runner. For a moment she entertained the idea of having him run and see what he could do; she was sure he could outrun most humans at the racetrack. Unfortunately, she would never have an opportunity to test that theory.
She politely cleared her throat, and he bolted upright so fast that she took an involuntary step back. For a moment, they just stared at each other. He had dark eyes with a feral glint that made her glad there were sturdy bars between them.
Then he broke his gaze, sighed and raked a hand over his shaven head, a gesture that suggested his hair had been longer before. Apparently, the staff had seen to it that they were cleaned up when they came in. Zana noticed that they hadn't been especially careful not to damage the skin.
Or perhaps the human had struggled. He certainly seemed to be able to put up a fight.
"Good morning," she said brightly. "My name is Zana, and I'm here to take care of you from now on."
The human flicked her another glance, then turned his back to her and walked into the far corner of his cage.
"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Zana wondered. "Do you speak our language?"
The male bent down and grabbed one of the blankets from his sleeping place. He smiled at her over his shoulder while he slung it around his waist. "No."
Well, she couldn't have expected him to react like one of her human cubs. Her adorable, cuddly, plump cubbies... Zana decided to change her tactic. Zaius had spoken of two humans. "Where is your comrade? Is there a reason you were put in separate cages?"
The human grinned. "They wanted to keep us from fucking each other's brains out."
"Really?" She tried not to sound nonplussed.
"God, no! Do I look as if I'd fuck anything that moves? I'm not a friggin' bonobo!" The male made a mock disgusted face at her. From the adjacent cage, Zana could hear the second human cough, trying to mask a laugh.
"You're really hurting my feelings now, Pete." Another male; he had a deep voice, and somehow sounded older than the one in front of her.
Smartasses . Zana suddenly remembered Zaius' words about having her hands full. She leaned back to peer into the other cage. The other male was sitting on his pile of blankets, smiling up to her. He had pale hair - a quite unusual color, but it was his eyes that had her transfixed for a moment. They were blue.
Blue eyes! She had never come across a specimen of this pale phenotype. They really looked stunning, and Zana suddenly understood the high prices the breeders took for them.
"And what is your name?" she asked him.
He stood and came slowly towards the bars, grabbing them with both hands. His chest was marked with dark lines - ritual scarring, probably from the Ah-ti tribe, though in a pattern Zana didn't recognize. Some of the shapes suggested birds, maybe referring to the human's origin from the skies. She remembered that his companion wore the same markings and decided that they were the perfect ice-breaker for their next session.
"Colonel Alan Virdon, ma'am." He extended one hand through the bars to her.
It was a gesture of greeting, and after a moment's hesitation, she made her way over to him and took it. If he wanted to yank her towards the cage and rip her throat out, well, that was a professional risk she had to take, right?
But he just squeezed her hand lightly and let go.
"Please accept my apologies for my colleague's rude behaviour," he said, still smiling. "He gets cranky when he's put in a cage."
"It's bad for my tan," the other one - Peet, wasn't it? - piped up.
"Well, I see no reason to keep you in separate cages, at least," Zana told him. "What happened to your clothes? Weren't you given new ones?" She'd have a word with the head zookeeper about this. "I'll have you outfitted and transferred somewhere less..." decrepit, but she settled for, "bleak."
His smile deepened. "That'd be much appreciated. Especially the clothes."
She nodded to him. "I'll see to it right now." She kept a straight face when she passed... Peet's... cage. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that he had flopped down on his bed pile and was staring at the ceiling, his momentary bout of snarkiness evaporated. The sight tugged at her heart, and she told it in no uncertain terms to stop it - this was a job, an important job, and she would remain professional. After all, these weren't her usual cuddly toddlers. They were more like... soldiers.
Like Urko.
They might be humans, but they weren't like any human she had seen in her life before.
Dark clouds hung low over the city, and thunder was already growling at the horizon. The rain season had come unusually late this year, and Zana hadn't brought a coat to work. She wavered on the steps of the main entrance for a moment, unsure if she shouldn't go back and lock up her notes in her office; while she didn't mind getting her fur wet, it would be a real bother if her work would melt away.
She firmly told herself it was only paranoia that made her carry them with her everywhere she went as she hurried across main street. The first fat drops were already hitting the pavement, so heavy that they bounced off again, making little circles in the dust. Perhaps she would have to wait out the worst of it - there was a little cafe on the plaza at the end of main street that she frequented very...
Her steps faltered as she saw the masses crowded in the square. There were so many people that the latecomers were already backlogging into the surrounding streets and alleys. Some of them waved banners, many wore the colors of the Equal Opportunities movement, green and black.
"What is going on?" she asked an Orangutan woman squeezing past her.
"Zibaya is speaking!" The girl bobbed with excitement.
Zibaya was one of the more charismatic speakers for the movement, unusually energetic and commanding for an Orangutan, and one that the organizers loved to bring to these rallies. Of course it made sense to send your best horse to the race; Zana doubted they could have made the leap out of obscurity without her.
"Has this rally even been authorized?" Zana wondered. She couldn't remember reading anything about it in the newspaper. The student glanced at her with disgust and muttered something about "Chimp tools." Zana felt her fur rise at the slur, but the girl had already vanished into the crowd.
On the other side of the plaza, Zibaya began to speak, although Zana didn't understand a single word over the rolling thunder and the cheers of her fans. The rain began to fall harder now, which didn't faze her followers, who were still blocking Zana's path to the café. She stuffed her notes under her cardigan to give them at least a little protection against the weather and began to squeeze herself sideways through the crowd, breathing "excuse me" and "sorry" every few inches. Most of them ignored her, their eyes fixed straight ahead to the speaker's platform, but she also got more than a few hostile stares; some even shoved her. When she was finally able to make out the street sign of the café, the frequency of her polite excuses had decreased from inches to several feet.
The sight of her sanctuary made her double her efforts. The terrible weather and the terrible Orangutan girl added up to at least two honey cakes and a fruity cocktail...
Suddenly the mass of people in her back tumbled against her like an incoming surf. Zana was squeezed hard against somebody's back, shoving him or her against the next row, but the movement didn't travel further and she found herself clamped down. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe, and she felt panic exploding in her chest along with the pain of her struggling lungs.
For a moment, the pressure subsided, and she gasped for air, but then the whole mass of people began to shake and weave like untethered crates on a toppling wagon. Cheers turned into screams and high pitched wails. Everyone was panicking now.
"Police! They're kettling us!"
Don't let them push you off your feet!
She struggled without concern for her neighbours' health, just fighting not to get drawn under, shoving, pushing, climbing, and in one case, elbowing somebody in the face. If she could only get the few steps to the cafe, she'd be safe. Just a few steps...
Hands were clawing her back, people trying to use her as a handle to get out of the maelstrom, then somebody grabbed her hand and pulled her into the right direction, towards the cafe. She hung on to that stranger's hand with all her might, her other hand still pressed against her chest, against her notes. Another pull, and she tumbled against the soaked shirt of her rescuer.
Glass was shattering somewhere. The panicked cries took on another quality, becoming more regular, and lower pitched. Furious. Roaring. The crowd had identified its attacker and was coming around to do battle. Beyond the shoving and pushing protesters, Zana could make out the helmets and shields of the city guard.
"Huh. I guess we better go inside," her saviour said. Still dazed, Zana felt a hand between her shoulderblades, pushing her gently towards the door. "The weather seems to be getting worse. And I heard they make terrific waffles here. Do you mind if I'd invite you? You seem to be in need of a waffle right now."
"I am," Zana said, surprised at how calm her voice sounded, "in terrible need of a cocktail right now. With a paper umbrella."
"Not a problem," her escort said. She looked over to him for the first time and noticed that he was also a Chimpanzee. She wondered how he had gotten caught up in this mess. Probably as accidentally as she.
Not too bad looking. Not that she was in the mood for a date right now.
The young man led her to a table at the far end of the room, tucked into a niche from where she couldn't see the front windows anymore, and held her chair. Zana sat down, secretly delighted at his courteous manner. If he also proved to be a good conversationalist, she'd have to rethink her mood for a date...
The Chimp sat down across the table, only to immediately rise again for a half-bow. "Ack, how terribly rude of me," he said with a smile. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Atiba Galen."
Zana raised her brows at that. Although she didn't know any of them personally, she of course knew the name. Her father might have mentioned the name Atiba once or twice, usually with a growled qualifier like "obstinate," "rude," or "contrarian." It was nice to see that the son was apparently completely unlike his father.
"Dhyendhye Zana," she introduced herself and suppressed a smile when she noticed the same glint of recognition and quick calculation in Galen's eyes. True children of councillors - they just couldn't help themselves.
While they waited for their drinks to arrive, Zana pulled out her folder to check for water damage (it was almost dry, thankfully). Galen eyed it with interest, but didn't say anything when she put it down on the bench beside her.
"So, what did you think of professor Zibaya's take on the council's latest education reform?" Galen asked in the light conversational tone he had probably perfected in countless dinner parties.
"If you mean the speech she just held outside, I couldn't understand a word she said. I was a bit preoccupied with surviving a stampede."
"Ah. Yes. Well, that would be a bit distracting, I can imagine," Galen said in the same soft voice. Zana thought she could detect a hint of irony.
"I've heard her before, tough, and she's right on many counts," she continued. "I just think the movement's efforts are a bit... narrow."
"Oh?"
"Well, I've been called a 'Chimp tool' just this afternoon. Apparently we are still fair game when it comes to racist remarks." She tried not to sound bitter.
Galen shrugged. "We are seen as the enforcers of the system. Of course they would call us names."
"Excuse me? 'We'? I'm a scientist! Just because a lot of Chimps are members of the military and the police force doesn't mean everyone can call me a thug!" Her finger tapped rapidly against her glass, but at least she had managed to keep her voice down.
"Oh I wouldn't call them thugs," Galen said in that deceptively casual tone that she had come to identify as his way of being ironic, "at least not within their hearing range."
"See?" She pointed. "That is exactly the point!"
Galen smiled at her, not in the least irritated by her outrage. "What is your point, Zana?"
"Chimps are driven into these sectors because of racial prejudice, just like Gorillas are expected to be too dumb for anything except tilling the fields! The Orangs like to think they are the brains, we are the brawns, and the Gorillas are the poor children that they have to kindly take care of!" Zana hissed.
"We have Chimpanzee scientists, heck, we have a Gorilla general," she tried not to be horrified at herself for using Urko, of all people, to support her argument, "but does that in any way change the way society perceives us? No. It has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. And the movement is, consciously or unconsciously, colluding with the system they proclaim to oppose, by forcing the Chimp community to side with the very people who put them into that straightjacket!"
She had to pause to catch her breath; she'd let herself get carried away again. Well, the topic did raise her hackles. Zana took a sip from her cocktail to hide her embarrassment.
Galen leaned back. "You're a good speaker, Zana," he said admiringly, "you, you should definitely speak at one of those rallies!"
Zana snorted. "No thanks. I'm sympathetic to their cause, but I love my work more. I'm not eager to get caught in the middle like today. That was very kind of you, by the way," she added, calmer, "and I'm terribly sorry I forgot to thank you for it earlier. I think you saved my life."
Galen waved her thanks away. "Oh, don't mention it. Anybody would have done that."
"But anybody didn't," Zana pointed out. She smiled and raised her glass. "Nor did they buy me a drink afterwards."
"Oh." Galen seemed to be taken aback, but pleased. "Well, if you like, we could repeat it some time. Not the getting stampeded," he added hastily, "but I know a nice restaurant that has opened only recently. They offer a very nice menu, and I've been told they have a terrific drummer band."
Zana took a deep draw from her glass to hide her grin. The unthinkable was happening: she was getting a date. "Well, I have to check my calendar," she said coyly, "I'm swamped with work right now..."
"Ah yes, those strange humans you're working with." Galen smiled innocently when she stared. "I'm the Council Eldest's personal assistant. I assure you, your secret is safe with me."
Zana sank back into her seat, suddenly feeling cold and wary. "I'm sorry, but that information is classified. And since you're not a member of the council, you don't have clearance for it." And just when had Galen become Zaius' assistant? And why hadn't her father mentioned it to her?
"Oh. Oh, no!" Galen held up his hands. "I don't intend to get you into a pickle by asking nosy questions!"
"Then why mention it at all?"
"Well, it is always so inconvenient if one suffers a slip of the tongue, so I just..."
"I can assure you, Galen," Zana said slowly. "My tongue doesn't slip unless I want it to."
That... hadn't come out as she had intended it. Zana eyed her cocktail. Must've been the cocktail.
"I have absolutely no doubt about that." Galen's face was expressionless. Somehow she could still sense that he was laughing. She cleared her throat.
"Well, the weather seems to be clearing up," she said. "I'd better be going."
Galen jumped out of his seat when she rose. "I'll see you home. No, I insist!"
She didn't put up as much resistance to that as she had planned; in fact, she didn't even protest when he took the longer way - much longer way - through the back alleys, claiming they had to in order to avoid the guards, who were hunting down the last protesters.
Her strangely good mood persisted even after he had delivered her at her home, and she smiled indulgently when her father put his arm around her shoulders.
"That Atiba boy, huh?" he rumbled. "Never thought I'd see him grow up to something respectable. Sometimes they surprise you in a good way. Are you seeing each other now?"
Zana inhaled deeply, tasting the scent of night orchids and rain on her tongue. "I think we are, Dad."
"I will feed them, move them, and talk with them from now on," Zana instructed the zookeepers. "There will be no other ape inside the compound with them at any time." She had to work quickly, if what Zaius had hinted at was true, and the quickest way to build rapport was if she was the only break in the humans' monotonous and sense-deprived routine. It wasn't what she'd define as species-appropriate husbandry, but she had to make the best of the restraints she had been put under.
"And you'll also empty their buckets?" the head zookeeper asked.
Zana smiled thinly at his insolent tone. "No, Gula. Since you're so eager to help, that will be your responsibility. When the humans are in their open-air enclosure."
She waved them away and quickly went over her notes again. The blue-eyed human - Were-donn, though he encouraged her to just call him Alan - seemed to have been eager to cooperate with her, readily answering her questions about the reservation, although he demanded that she answer his questions about her world in return. Zana had been careful to only give him anecdotal information - nothing that he could use against them. She still felt somewhat uncomfortable about the whole exchange; she was pretty certain that Zaius would have disapproved.
She hadn't mentioned it in her report.
Alan's cooperation had stopped, unsurprisingly, when the topic had changed to his origin and intentions for her world. He insisted that their crash had been an accident, a navigational error when they had actually been on their way home. Zana sighed and turned a page.
Peet (she had given up on trying to pronounce his other name, especially since he covered his ears as if in pain every time she tried) was much more obstinate. She had noticed how his eyes had scanned his surroundings when they were transferred to their new kennels, not in the wide-eyed panic of a wild animal being herded between buildings, but like an inmate checking for weaknesses in the outfit of his prison. During his interviews, he had been equally evasive, trying to throw her off with his snark and idioms that were clearly translations from his own language and that made only sense in a context that Zana was invariably lacking.
He was a royal pain in the behind. She was looking forward to their next round.
Well, perhaps she could bribe them into divulging more information about their machine today. She had restricted their movements for the last days, claiming bad weather didn't allow them to peruse their open-air enclosure, and had monitored their reactions to the forced inactivity. Predictably, it had gotten to Peet faster than to the more laid-back Alan. Zana suspected that once she managed to break through Peet's resistance, she'd harvest way more information than from the oh so mellow-looking Alan.
The men looked up from a board game they had scratched into the cage floor when she entered. "Good news," Zana said cheerfully, "the weather has cleared up. In a day or two, you can go outside again."
"We could go outside now," Peet suggested. "I don't mind if it's still wet."
She smiled at him, as if considering his request. "Well, perhaps you're right. We'll see if we still have time for a breath of fresh air later... after we've done our homework for today."
Peet made a disgusted sound and turned away.
"I need to ask these questions, Peet," Zana addressed his back. "I have superiors who want results, and I can assure you that you'll prefer me over anyone they'd send in my place if they find them lacking."
He whipped around at that. "We've moved from bribes to threats already? Y'know there's a difference between accurate information you don't like, and false information that you recognize. Your bosses have already made up their minds about us, and you're just trying to bully us into confirming their story! What's next, do we have to sign a denouncement of US foreign policy?"
"I have no idea what theories my superiors are discussing at the moment," Zana retorted, ignoring yet another of his idiomatic remarks. "But what I do know is that you've divulged neither inconvenient nor invalid information yet. What you've given me so far was simply irrelevant!"
He sneered at her. "I can stick to my rank and number, if you prefer. But it would be much less entertaining."
"Pete has a point," Alan's calm voice cut through their argument. "I've told you more than once that we didn't intend to disturb the peace here. We don't even know where we are, relative to our home. There is no invading fleet on its way to your world. It was an accident, and all we want is to return home. I have a wife and two children - I miss them very much."
She hadn't known - he hadn't mentioned that detail before. She couldn't know if it was even true, or if he was just trying to manipulate her, and told him as much.
Alan swallowed. "I can prove that piece of information, at least. I had a necklace when we were captured; it had two pendants, about this size," he held his fingers apart to demonstrate, "with the portraits of my wife and my son etched in. They took it away, but I'm sure it's here somewhere, in an evidence room or something similar. If you could find it, you'd see that I told you the truth." He smiled a crooked smile. "And since you've then seen me telling the truth once, you'd have a model of what I look like when I'm doing that."
It sounded good, except for one detail. "You just told me you had two children, not one."
His smile didn't waver, but his eyes were sad. "My wife was pregnant with our daughter when I left for our mission. I've never seen her. She must've been born by now." He took a deep breath. "If you find that necklace, I'd be very grateful if you could let me have it again. Please? It is of no use to any of you."
Zana was silent for a moment; Alan had just given her something she could use as a bribe for more information. He had to be in a worse emotional shape than she had realized to make such a mistake. "I'll see what I can do." She fiddled with her notes, avoiding eye contact. "It would be helpful if you'd answer my questions, Alan, because I can't keep you safe if I'm no longer in charge of you." She looked up again; Alan's gaze was still on her, his face unreadable now. "I believe you, if that makes any difference." She glanced towards Peet, who was lazily rattling their playing stones in his hollow fist, his face sullen and distant.
"In the end, it really doesn't," Alan said finally. "Like Pete said, your superiors seem to have already made up their minds about us... and that doesn't bode well for us, I'm afraid. I don't think you can keep us safe from them."
Zana remembered Zaius' offhand remark about bringing out the 'big guns'. But he couldn't have meant... She frowned at the human. "Don't be ridiculous. We're civilized people. You don't have to fear anything - what's so funny?" she snapped when Peet started to laugh, but he just shook his head and said nothing.
She decided to break off their session then. They had hit a wall, again - the same wall they had been hitting for days; it was no use trying to force her way through now. She'd have to wear down their resistance by other means somehow... perhaps by separating them from each other...
Zana stopped in her tracks. Solitary confinement was cruel! It was one of the most destructive things one could do to a human, and here she was seriously contemplating it, because she thought it would save her humans from even worse things that Urko and... and Uncle Zaius could do to them?
What is happening with me?