Virdon put the heavy bucket down with a thud and wiped his sleeve over his face. Sweat was running down his temples, his neck and back; it would probably have been easier to just lead their horses down to the river, but with his bad leg, he wasn't sure he could control them if they got spooked. It was hard to carry the full buckets one-handed from the river to their camp, but he needed his other hand to lean on the crutch he had made for himself, once he had been strong enough to leave his cot.
He sighed and leaned against the trunk of the tree behind him; they had set up camp in the shadow of a small grove of bayberry trees that had managed to grow beyond their usual shrub-like height, to wait out the day's heat. They were still traveling mostly at night, though no longer just to stay hidden from Urko's patrols - now in the height of summer, the days had become so unbearably hot, that most life hid panting in whatever shadow could be found during the day. Virdon watched the mare eagerly emptying the bucket; they even had problems keeping the horses hydrated, as Tala and Apache produced bucketloads of sweat to cool themselves.
Had the weather always been that bad? During the weeks of his recovery, rolling northward in the gently-swaying cart, Virdon had tried to reconstruct their route since they had been captured. The ancient Atlanta subway station had clued him in to the fact that they were moving through former Georgia; he hadn't recognized the shoreline when they had come crashing down through the atmosphere, though. Had Florida sunk below sea level? He couldn't remember having seen the characteristic peninsula. And yes, Georgia had always had hot and humid summers, but he couldn't remember that it had been this hot.
Tala's head was diving deeper into the bucket; he'd have to bring her another one... maybe several ones. Maybe he should just loosen the knot and lead her down to the river-
A hot pain flashed down his leg, robbing his breath for a moment.
The wound itself had long closed; Galen's... 'Dr. Kova's' herbal decoctions had successfully battled the wound fever, and even the bronchitis that had flared up after he had thought it long healed - maybe the damage to his lungs from the dust and the unidentified gas in that subway station would be permanent.
But the nerve was still making his life hell; there were still numb spots down the length of his leg, and at least once a day, the leg would suddenly be on fire, cramping up and tingling as if he'd touched a live wire. It wasn't the muscle damage that forced him to lean heavily on that wooden crutch. Maybe he'd be condemned to limp through this world for the rest of his days.
The pain subsided a bit, enough that Virdon could take a cautious breath; he grabbed the empty bucket and started his fifth round of watering the horses. The camp lay deserted; Galen and Zana were dozing inside the cart, and Pete was roaming the riverbanks, checking their traps and keeping an eye at the road for patrols.
If they ever made it back to their own time, he'd never fly again, Virdon mused, as he gingerly crab-walked down the slope to the waterline. Not that he'd mind; he had promised Sally to stay earthbound anyway, as a flight instructor for the next generation of explorers. But before that, he'd need a long stay in rehab.
If they ever made it back.
Virdon stared at the running water that was throwing the sun's glare into his face. In the silent, pain-stricken hours of noon, when everyone was dozing, exhausted from the pounding heat, he had again and again touched on, and shied away from, the thought that Pete had been right about this world's capacity to provide them a way back. That they were stranded here for the rest of their lives.
That his family was irrevocably lost to him.
Virdon squeezed his eyes shut against the glare and slowly sank into a one-legged crouch, keeping his injured side carefully stretched, and held the bucket into the stream. Within moments, it began to drag at his arm, and he pulled it out again with a groan. Water sloshed over the rim and soaked his trousers - a welcome refreshment. He should follow the apes' example and get some rest. But the pain in his leg always seemed to flare up when he was trying to sleep, and the horses needed their water.
He had pushed himself up on the bucket's rim and his crutch when the shot cracked, loud enough, near enough, to make him dive for cover. For a moment he lay trembling in the soft mud of the riverbank, hidden among the reeds; then he ran his hand down his side, almost expecting it to touch wet heat.
But when he held it up before his eyes, his palm was clean, just muddy and wet from the river's water. Whoever had fired that shot had probably not aimed at him-
Pete!
Virdon scrambled to his feet, ignoring the hot pain drilling into his hip, ignoring the danger that whoever had shot had been aiming at him and just missed the first time around, snatched up his crutch and hop-limped up the slope towards the camp, a vision of Pete's broken eyes burning in his mind, a red-spattered hole in his forehead...
Please, God, no...
The crack of a rifle whipped through Galen's dream, jolting him upright in his bed. For a moment he just sat there, blinking, dizzy from the heat and the half-reality of jumbled images in his mind, unsure if he hadn't dreamed the gunshot, too.
Then Alan stumbled heavily against the frame of the cart, gripping the wood with white knuckles. He peered inside over the tail board, wild-eyed. "Where's Pete? You heard that shot?"
In the next moment, he had pushed away from the plank and bent down, out of Galen's sight; he had probably lost his crutch in his wild race to the cart.
When his head reappeared, his eyes were still wide and wild with panic. "We need to find him! If he's wounded... they can't just shoot him! They can't just shoot a human without checking his papers first!"
"Alan, calm down." Galen climbed over Zana's legs, ignoring her mumbled question what was going on, steadying himself on the wooden crates and cabinets that held their herbs and equipment; he still felt dizzy, knocked out from the heat. "A lot of people go bird hunting along the river, it may just have been a hunter..."
"Maybe." Alan's face was tense and sweat-covered. He was leaning heavily on his crutch. "But I've learned that the most hunted animal in these parts is human."
"Do you know where he went?" Galen jumped out into the glare that was burning itself through the canopy; the heat under the cotton cover had been suffocating, but dull, compared with the fiery assault sizzling his fur now. He retreated back into the slim shadow of the wagon.
Alan didn't seem to feel the sun, although he looked as if he'd break down with a heat stroke any moment. "Upriver, collecting our traps. If they shot him for poaching..." He broke off, wiping his face with his free hand. "We need to find him," he repeated. "Damn my leg... Can you...?"
Would there ever be an end to this routine? For a moment, Galen felt utterly exhausted; hot, thirsty, dizzy, tired... completely unable to deal with this latest emergency. The sheer frequency of them was beginning to dull his response.
Just as he opened his mouth to call for Zana to help them with their search, a movement at the mouth of the clearing caught his attention.
It was Peet. But he was walking with his hands folded behind his head.
And then a rider appeared in the bend of the road; following Peet in a lazy walk, rifle pointed at his head. As they came closer, Galen could see Peet's face more clearly: pale under the tan, jaws clenched, his expression carefully blank.
Alan had turned to follow his gaze; he inhaled with a sharp hiss, but kept otherwise silent. This was a situation where only apes should be talking. Galen sighed inwardly; he didn't look forward to a conversation about not keeping one's humans nearby and a lecture about hunting regulations. And their money had run low after his last purchase of the wagon and its equipment... he wondered how high the fine would be. More than they could afford, plus a small donation off the record for the officer...
Who had stopped now in the middle of the clearing, letting his gaze wander slowly over Galen, his other human, the wagon, their campfire, and back to Galen. Peet had stopped, too, hands still behind his head, staring straight ahead without looking at anyone. Galen was sure the human felt the muzzle of the officer's rifle pointing at the back of his head; Peet's instincts were sharp like that of a wild animal.
Well, he wasn't exactly domesticated.
"That's yours?" The officer's voice was bored, but Galen didn't let that fool him; anyone on patrol during this time of the day was either dutiful to the point of fanaticism, or on a mission. If Peet had been caught in the wake of whatever operation, it would need all of Galen's wit and diplomacy to ease them out of it again. He didn't want to enjoy a repeat of Aken's hospitality.
"That's my human, officer," he said cautiously. "I allowed it to roam about while we were waiting for the greatest heat to pass. I hope it didn't trespass on someone's ground...?"
"I almost shot it," the rider said, without the slightest hint of regret or reproach. "Better keep it on a leash in these parts. We're under orders to shoot any human outside the villages."
Galen saw a muscle jump in Peet's jaw; his eyes were still not focused on anyone, but they were ablaze with fury. Galen remembered the gunshot they'd heard; whatever had happened, Peet had witnessed it. It wouldn't help his attitude towards the apes... but that was something he'd gladly leave to Zana to solve.
"Come here," he ordered, and after a moment's hesitation, maybe to make sure he wouldn't be shot for moving, Peet let his arms sink and crossed the clearing. He took position at Alan's side, well away from Galen.
Galen didn't care; his attention was on the police officer. "That seems to be... an unusually strict measure, officer," he said cautiously. "Is there a reason for that? I mean," he hastened to add, "something we should be aware of as long as we're passing through? If there is a danger for my wife, or my humans..."
The Chimp inhaled and pursed his lips. "There's a fever spreading around here among the humans, and it's killing them off left and right. The prefect's ordered a quarantine for the village so that it doesn't spread into the other prefectures, but the damn beasts are breaking through the cordon all the time. Can't allow that, see? So we shoot them, to keep the others from trying it. But I can't guarantee that one doesn't get through, after all; that one can infect your humans, so like I said, keep them on a leash." He nodded towards Peet. "That'll save you from paying fines for poaching, too."
Both humans had gone very still and very silent during the officer's little speech; Galen could feel the tension radiating from them like he could feel the heat of their campfire, even without looking at it. It made his fur bristle; he was glad that the officer was on his horse, and was still keeping his rifle nested in the crook of his arm. It would keep them from doing something rash, something... violent.
He was keeping ape-killers; the realization still made him nauseous. Yes, towards him they were respectful, and both were doting on Zana, but that didn't change the fact that any sensible ape would've put them down ages ago. How could he justify this madness?
He pushed that thought away; the Chimp would turn his horse around and leave, and he'd let Zana and Alan deal with Peet...
The Chimp's eyes lit up with interest at something behind him; Galen narrowed his eyes and turned to follow his gaze. If that officer was making eyes at Zana...
"You're an animal doctor?"
He had noticed their flag - an ape head with two cow horns above it. Peet had made jokes about it, saying it looked like a demon from their mythology, but to any ape it signaled that "Dr. Kova" would treat inflamed udders, piglets with diarrhea, or humans that had stepped on a rusty nail.
Galen turned back, filled with a dark premonition. "That's correct, officer."
The black-clad Chimp smiled a delighted smile down at him. "Terrific, Doc - the prefect will be happy to see you. Good thing I caught your human, huh?"
"There's no reason not to stay and see us through this crisis." The prefect glared at Galen. "You said yourself that you haven't found a prefecture yet where you'd want to establish a permanent practice, so it's not as if you're expected somewhere. And who knows, maybe you'll find our little patch of land not so bad after you've settled in."
Galen rubbed his hands over his knees and smiled nervously. Prefect Kanla had made it clear from the beginning that she wouldn't take no for an answer; she was just trying to let him save face, which she didn't have to do. Galen supposed he should be grateful for that gesture of good will, but he couldn't stop thinking about Zana... about the baby.
She still hadn't said a word to him, although by now, she already had to be through half of her pregnancy; if she kept this up, she'd only come clean once she entered labour, Galen thought sardonically. It made bowing out of his current predicament infinitely more difficult, though - if he told Kanla that he didn't want to risk an infection of his pregnant wife, she'd probably just offer to house Zana in town, which meant he'd still have to treat the humans in that village - but how would he justify her unusual lodgings to Zana? She still believed that he was completely oblivious to her state.
Do I really want to risk the health of our baby for the satisfaction that she'd have to break down and tell the truth first?
He sighed, a long drawn-out exhale. "Please understand, Prefect - under normal circumstances, I'd be more than happy to help. Treating sick animals is not only my profession, but also my passion. But one of my own humans is still recovering from an injury itself, and my wife is pregnant. We cannot know if this illness is dangerous for apes, too, and I can't justify endangering her health, or that of my child."
"I get that, I really do," Kanla said with a shrug, "but you also need to take my side of this into account, Doctor. I need these humans - apes simply can't work in this heat. Who's going to harvest the cotton? This prefecture gets most of its income from it, and this is the first time in three years that it looks as if we'd get through harvest time without storms destroying our crops. We may not get out of debt, but maybe we can move closer towards being just dirt poor." She leaned back, her calm gaze pinning him in his seat. She was a middle-aged Chimp, fur already graying around her face, a soldier who had seen it all and wasn't shocked or outraged by much. But now, Galen thought he could detect worry deepening the lines in her face.
"I was under the impression that the humans have their own healers to take care of their problems," he hedged. "It's rare that I'm called to treat one of them, mostly it's just cows with udder infections, or treating pig erysipelas..."
Kanla waved his objection away. "Yes, they treat their sick with herbs and superstitious nonsense, and claim victory for their hexes when nature takes its course and the creature eventually recovers on its own, but this is different. This fever has already taken out two thirds of the old ones and many, many cubs, and it's now starting to reap the strong - the adults and the adolescents. My workforce, Doctor, you understand? I have to do something! The Mothers sent you my way, I'd have to be criminally incompetent not to make use of you."
Galen didn't like where this conversation was going; the prefect had stopped just short of impressment, and he wasn't sure if she wouldn't still go there, in the end. "I must decline, Prefect - the health of my wife and my own working animals takes precedence." He started to rise.
"Not so fast."
The prefect's voice and gaze had gained a steely note all of a sudden. Galen exhaled softly and sat down again.
"I want to do this civilly, you understand?" Kanla leaned forward in her seat, one elbow propped up on her armrest. "But there's just no way that you can bow out of this assignment. I know there's a healer's vow that you've sworn - to help those in need."
"That vow refers exclusively to apes, I'm afraid," Galen said, and pushed the memory of Kira out of his mind.
"Well," Kanla said dryly, "I'm in need, and I'm an ape. Welcome to your new practice, Doctor. You can start treating my humans at once. I'll arrange lodgings for your wife here in town, and Tilan will escort you to the village."
Now he was dismissed. Galen rose, and bowed, and left without another word. Tilan, the guard who had escorted them here after he had captured Peet, was waiting at the other side of the door.
He beamed at Galen. "Welcome to Pendan prefecture, doc - you'll like it here."
"I have my doubts about that, Tilan," Galen said sourly. "It seems my wife will be held hostage in your town until I've miraculously healed your prefect's working troupe."
Tilan frowned. "Hostage? That sounds a bit over the top, doc. The prefect won't do no such thing."
They stepped out of the prefecturate and into the blazing afternoon heat. Alan had parked the wagon in the shadow of a huge walnut tree; he and Peet were talking to a little Chimp girl.
Zana was nowhere to be seen.
Galen drew a deep breath. This couldn't happen in a more public place than on that town's main square, in full daylight, with Pendan's finest, and their humans as audience.
Well, it's fitting, isn't it? Truth loves the light.
He straightened with a determined sniff, and quickly descended the few steps to the plaza.
Time to talk to Zana.
Burke was acutely aware that there was a kid staring at him.
She had been standing on the sidewalk for at least five minutes now, watching him and Al with unabashed interest as they were watering the horses - well, he was watering them; Al was handing him the empty buckets back, but hell, the man was injured and should actually be sitting inside the wagon with Zana - and Burke was sure that she'd start talking to them any moment now. He could just almost see the words crawling up the little chimp's throat and battling to come out.
He just hoped he'd be at the well in the middle of the plaza when that happened. He really didn't feel like talking with kids right now, or with apes, and most of all, not with ape kids. The chimp was wearing a sky blue skirt and a matching ribbon in her fur.
She was wearing a fucking ribbon. Burke tried not to gawk at it.
A movement at the edge of his vision made him turn his head. Galen was coming down the steps of the prefect's building, and he didn't look happy. The chimp who had caught him in the marches was trailing him, looking like a warden escorting a prisoner. Burke straightened and threw a glance to Al, who returned his look with slightly raised brows.
Yeah, that looked like trouble alright.
Burke pretended to focus on watering the horses, but kept his body slightly angled so that he could keep an eye on the guard; at the front wheel of their wagon, the chimp girl had been chatting up Al and was now demanding to see his scar from the gunshot, but she was distracted from dragging his pants down by the arrival of Galen and the officer. "Daddy!"
Burke watched her jump into the chimp's arms and squeal with delight as he whirled her around. The guard sat his daughter on his shoulders and listened to her chatter with an indulgent grin. It was... it was unsettling a bit.
He preferred not to think about the guards having families.
Burke turned away from that heart-melting scene and turned his attention back to the horses. He lifted the empty buckets and carried them to the back of the wagon to hang them up on the tail board, but stopped in his tracks when he heard voices from inside the wagon.
"It's not as if I had a choice, Zana - the prefect has made that more than clear to me! She needs her humans in good health, and the fever has already killed off quite a number of them. And we are carrying the flag of the physician on our cart."
It wasn't as if you had any privacy in the wagon, only separated from the outside world by wood and a cotton plane, and Burke was careful not to make any noise. Shit was going down, and he and Al would inevitably be caught up in it. He had a right to eavesdrop.
"But you aren't a veterinarian, Galen!" That was Zana's voice, hissing so that the chimp outside wouldn't hear her. "We can't stay with them in their village! What if Alan or Peet get infected? Alan has just recovered from his injury, and he's still coughing sometimes..."
That... was true. Al still hadn't recovered from the tons of crumbled concrete he had inhaled in that damn hole under the city, and then he'd raced to get him out of Urko's dungeon, and then he'd been shot... poor bastard couldn't catch a break.
They had never talked about what had happened - what Al had found in that hole, under the ruins. If he had found anything that would've tipped him off about the truth of this world, he hadn't mentioned it. So maybe he still thought they had crashed on some alternate Earth. But to be fair, Burke hadn't exactly been eager to talk about his time with Urko, either, so... they had continued on a don't ask, don't tell basis.
"I'm afraid I can't do without them. This is a whole village we're talking about, and besides, it would look strange if I sent my orderlies away. You know how humans are viewed, Zana - they're replaceable."
He shouldn't feel sucker punched by that. He shouldn't. He knew it was true.
"Maybe 'humans' are replaceable, but Alan and Peet are not. And we're not going to sacrifice them just so that this prefect can balance her budget!"
And suddenly, he could breathe again. Bless you, Zana.
"Zana." Burke could tell that Galen was speaking through clenched teeth. "I'm not going to endanger our cover - which has given us the longest uninterrupted time of relative peace, and the opportunity for Alan to recover from his injury, ever since we started this ill-fated adventure - by antagonizing that prefect. She's desperate; we're claiming to practice the very profession that addresses problems like the one she has. We simply don't have a reasonable excuse to deny her our help."
There was a long pause; then Burke heard her sigh. "You're right. We just have to... have to hope for the best."
"You'd go with us?" Galen's voice sounded... strange. Burke couldn't lay a finger upon what exactly was resonating in the ape's voice, but it put him on instant alert.
Virdon was by his side all of a sudden; either he had learned to float while on crutches, or Burke had been too captivated by the conversation at the other side of the tarp. "What-"
Burke waved at him to be silent; something was going on in there, and he had a hunch that it was important.
"Well, of course I'll go with you," Zana said, and Burke thought he could hear a faint trembling in her voice now; whatever he had sensed in Galen's voice, she had heard it, too. "Where else should I go?"
"You could stay in town until this is over."
Burke was still trying to define the undertone in Galen's voice - something guarded, something... ready to pounce.
"I... I guess I could..." Zana sounded... fearful?
What the hell is going on with these two? He threw a quick glance to Virdon, and was taken aback by the pained look on his face. Al seemed to know exactly what was going on in there. Thanks for letting me in on your private little understandings, buddy. Of course they'd have closed ranks while he was gone. But yeah, they could've let him back in, afterwards...
"But I want to go with you, Galen. I could help. You said it yourself, you need all the help you can get..."
"I don't believe it. I don't believe it!" The wagon began to sway as Galen jumped up and began to pace. Burke wondered absently where he found the space in there to walk back and forth, but that thought was immediately swept aside by the ape's next words. "I can't believe that you'd endanger the health of the baby just to keep up this... this charade! This secrecy!"
The... the what?
Burke turned his head, wide-eyed, but again, Virdon didn't look in the least surprised, only worried. So he had known, Galen had known. Zana, well, duh. Burke licked his lips. But for some reason, Zana hadn't wanted him to know.
Well, and she had also kept it from Galen, for some reason. Burke still felt like the fifth wheel all of a sudden. How had the ape found out? "Did you tell him?" he whispered.
Virdon just shook his head.
"Then how the hell does he know? And why didn't she tell hi-"
"Come in, you two!" Galen's stern voice was sounding directly at his ear. Burke flinched. "I can hear you whispering - we're just separated by a thin layer of cotton, you know?"
He and Virdon exchange a look; then Burke rounded the wagon and climbed inside. Virdon followed more slowly, dragging his bad leg over the tail board and snagging his crutch at the herb cabinet.
The apes waited until they had both settled down. Zana looked dazed, as if she had just been hit by a truck. Galen looked livid... in a stone-cold way that was somehow much more frightening than even the worst tantrums of Burke's old man had ever been.
"Who of you knew about this?" Galen demanded to know. His eyes bored into him for a moment, and Burke was transported back to that moment in the corridor of Kira's clinic, when Galen had snarled at him, and his hand unconsciously curled into a fist on his thigh, around an invisible hilt.
But Galen's glare had already settled on Al, and a glint of cold irony shone from his eyes now. "And how long have you known?"
"She hadn't told me, either," Virdon murmured. His hand was rubbing his hip, where the bullet had hit him. "But I'm a father myself. I... I could see it."
"Yes," Galen said dryly. "Apparently, you're very observant. And discreet."
"I wanted to tell you, Galen." Zana's voice was thick with tears, but her eyes were dry. "I was waiting for the right moment, but... when I tried to talk about it, you were so adamantly against the very thought of it, and, and I was afraid you'd disapprove..." And now she was dabbing her eyes, and Burke felt his heart grow heavy, and he wanted to go over to her and hug her.
But Galen was between them, a cold fire of hurt and betrayed trust, and suddenly the wagon was too cramped and there were too many apes too close to him and he couldn't breathe properly.
He scrambled to his feet, stumbled and almost fell over Al's crutch, and jumped out of the back.
The air outside was hot and heavy, but he still found that he could breathe more easily. He felt guilty for not having stuck with Zana, but he was still there, wasn't he? The others were just a few feet away, and he could still hear everything with perfect clarity.
"Well, you did it," Galen was saying. "I do disapprove, but not of the baby."
"How long have you known?" Zana choked.
"Long enough to be deeply disappointed in you." Galen's voice was flat. Not even angry. "All the world is out to destroy us. I had thought that we at least could trust each other. But I was wrong. Well. They say the truth hurts, but they got it wrong.
"It's the lies that hurt, once you know of them."
Tilan's house was the brick-and-mortar version of a human hut - apparently, only better-off apes could afford to live in houses that their forebears would've approved of; the common ape had to make do with a less extravagant, ground-level house. Virdon found its familiarity at once comforting and haunting, but he wondered if an ape wouldn't feel resentful against a style of building that reminded them of the housing type of the lesser species.
Tilan didn't seem to mind, though; he led the way, his little daughter riding on his back, to hand Zana to his wife, who was awaiting her under the door, an even tinier chimpanzee on her hip. Galen had been adamant in his insistence that Zana should wait out this... situation until he had brought it under control, and Zana, devastated by his quiet fury and her own guilty conscience, hadn't argued, for once.
Pete was following her, balancing a crate with her things on his shoulder. He looked sullen, or maybe it was just his way to hide his unease; he had practically jumped out of the wagon when Galen had started to tear into Zana.
Virdon sighed and leaned heavily against the front wheel. Galen was still sitting in the driver's seat, refusing to accompany his fiancée inside, and Virdon felt no inclination to join the brooding chimp up there. So he watched the little procession vanish into the house, save for Tilan's daughter who had jumped off her father's back and was now eyeing their horses, and him. He hoped she wouldn't remember that she had wanted to see his gunshot scar; he wasn't allowed to refuse her, and Galen didn't look as if he'd be interested in stepping in on his behalf right now.
To his relief, the girl had to stay with her mother when they set off. He and Burke retreated to the tail end of the wagon, putting as much distance between them and Galen as possible. Viron cast a searching glance at the younger man; Burke's face was shuttered, and he avoided making eye contact. Pride wouldn't allow him to admit that any sign of anger from an ape was frightening him now; Virdon decided not to break the subject. He stared at the town's stockade instead, which was slowly retreating as the wagon swayed down the sandy track towards the human settlement.
"With all the stinkin' water puddles, these people have a permanent subscription for malaria," Burke finally remarked over the high-pitched buzzing of mosquitoes. "It's as if they're farming the damn pests."
"They have ditches." Virdon pointed. "They need to drainage their fields, or they won't be able to grow anything but rice in them. But that just moves the problem around, and probably too close to their village. We need to see where they drained all that water to."
"And then what? You an' I ain't gonna dig those ditches for them - you won't, in any case, with your bad leg..." Burke studied him with a frown. "How's the leg these days, by the way?"
"Better." He consciously stilled his hand at his hip; he had developed a habit of rubbing the spot when it was aching.
Burke was chewing the inside of his lip; he didn't look convinced. "Uh-huh. Still. No heavy work for you, Colonel. An' with what I've overheard, half of that village is too sick to stand upright. They won't dig that ditch, either. So the doc is gonna fight against windmills here. As long as the damn mosquitos are around, people will catch that fever from them quicker than he can stomp it out."
Virdon drew a slow breath. Pete was right; as long as they didn't remove the cause of the infection, the fever would flare up around them again and again. He realized that he really didn't feel up to the task of draining the swamps around the village; he still felt exhausted after the slightest exertion, tired and bone-weary. "We need to find a solution, Pete, or we'll be stuck here for a long time. And I don't know about you, but I want to reach those mountains as quickly as possible." From what Galen had told them, Urko's reach ended at the Appalachians. Virdon hoped that Pete would be able to relax once they had shaken off his tormentor for good.
"Yeah, and the longer we stay, the more we risk getting bitten ourselves," Burke muttered. He gave him a sideways glance. "Did you remember to bring your anti-malaria meds from the ship?"
Virdon huffed a laugh, and Burke smiled sardonically. "Yeah, me neither. Must've lost them somewhere along the way."
"We need to protect ourselves somehow," Virdon mused. Pete was right - they couldn't afford to catch Malaria, West Nile, or some mutated virus that would probably kill them both off in a matter of days; they didn't share these people's immunity against whatever had developed in the time gap between the Icarus' departure and her arrival here.
He refused to die in this future. He'd die back in his own time, dammit.
A sharp pain pricked his neck, and he slapped at it. Maybe that one had just injected that mutated virus into his bloodstream... "We need to cover every inch of bare skin as long as we're there." He turned his head to scan the interior of the wagon. "Need to close the openings in the cover, too... I wonder if we can get some thin fabric from the villagers, something like a mosquito netting..."
"I don't think I can dig a ditch if I'm covered like a mummy, Al," Burke objected. "I'll drop dead from heatstroke after five minutes."
"Burn wet reeds then, anything that produces lots of smoke." Virdon fought to get on his feet, dragging himself up at the herb cabinet. "And slap on that repellant we got from Ango - I think Zana made a fresh batch two days ago. You can't afford to fall ill, Pete. Neither of us can."
He didn't wait for an answer as he crawled to the head of the wagon where Galen was still brooding on the driver's seat. The ape didn't acknowledge him when he clumsily settled on the seat beside him. Virdon took a moment to catch his breath and survey the land around him.
They were rolling over an elevated cart track, though the cotton stood high enough to conceal that difference. Virdon wondered why the apes in this prefecture insisted on cultivating a plant that loved dry heat; although he had joked about it, rice would have been a more logical choice. Right now, there were only a few mosquitos buzzing about - this part of the region was drainaged to protect the crops. He suspected that this would change once they were approaching the village.
Tilan was riding about twenty yards ahead of them, sufficiently far away not to catch their conversation if they kept their voices low.
"It wasn't my place to tell you," Virdon said quietly. "I had no right."
For a long while, Galen said nothing.
"Since when did you know?" He was still looking straight ahead, his face tense and withdrawn.
Virdon leaned back with a deep inhale, and absently massaged his scar. "I had suspected it since before Pete was captured. She was always complaining about sore muscles, and being tired all the time... and she developed these strange food cravings... it reminded me of my wife, when she was pregnant with our first child." It hurt to mention his family, but he managed to keep his voice calm and factual.
He sighed. "And I begged her to tell you when I was in that clinic... and her reaction told me I was right, so if you want to be exact, I knew for sure since then. She was panicking, Ga- Doctor." He couldn't be sure that Tilan didn't catch a word, now and then. "She wasn't holding back out of malice, but out of fear. Fear... makes a fool out of the best of us."
"And you think telling me that she fears me makes this whole disaster more palatable for me?" Galen flicked him an ironic glance.
"It's not you she feared - but that you'd disapprove." Virdon tiredly rubbed his face. There were more immediate things he wanted to talk about with Galen, but it was clear that he'd only have the chimp's ear once this was sorted out somehow. "She didn't want to lose your good opinion of her..."
"Why would I think bad of her for getting pregnant?" Galen asked, clearly irritated. "It's not as if I wasn't doing my part, too. We were both foolish and irresponsible-" He broke off. "Maybe she was afraid I'd demand that she'd get rid of it... it would be the most sensible response."
"Maybe," Virdon said uneasily. "That's something you need to talk about with her, though. Right now, we need a plan how to address this fever. I already told Pete we need to drain those pools with stagnant water that breed mosquitoes..."
Galen raised his brows. "Why? They are a nuisance, but this is not about affording these people irrelevant amenities."
Just where were the apes in medical history, Virdon wondered. Did they still believe in humors and miasmas? Demons? Bad winds? "Irrelevant? How do you think the fever developed?"
Galen shrugged. "According to professor Zulma, humans are containers of all sorts of illnesses. As proof he always cited a study determining that human bites are the most poisonous of all animals, even worse than cat bites. Did you know that?"
"Uhmm... no," Virdon lied.
"They're unclean creatures, an' that's that," Tilan remarked, who had slowed down his horse so that he was now level with Galen. "But they can work in the worst heat, and as long as they're useful," his gaze rested meaningfully on Virdon's hand that was rubbing the sore spot on his hip, "we let 'em live." He nodded towards the bend in the road ahead of them.
"See the red band in the willow tree? That's the point of no return. Once you've crossed that line, you need to stay inside until that fever's gone. Anyone we see on this side of the quarantine markings will be shot. I'm giving you fair warning, doc - ape or human, doesn't make a difference. Can't risk this illness to spread." He brought his horse to a halt. "I need to leave you here. Wish you good luck, doc. Don't let the humans bite you!"
"Well," Galen turned to Virdon after Tilan had vanished, "I suggest we enjoy our last moments in freedom." He took a deep draw from his water flask and handed it to Virdon. "It seemed to me that you had your own theory about the causes of this human fever."
Virdon took the flask. "It seemed to me that you were pretty convinced of professor Zulma's explanation," he said slowly.
"I'm convinced of only one thing," Galen said and flicked the lines. The wagon slowly swayed past the fiery warning of the plague band.
"And that is that every single thing I ever believed in was a lie."