A/N: Based on the script by Barry Oringer
Night was creeping into day, dragging its darkness into it. Virdon couldn't say if the sun had already risen; heavy clouds were crowding the sky, drawing a charcoal curtain over it. It had been raining for days now; everything was soaked through, their blankets, their shoes, their hair, and of course, the firewood. You could make fire from wet and green wood, but the result wasn't worth it most of the time, so they ate their cold meals in silence and tried to ignore the damp discomfort of their camp.
The worst thing about it were the mosquitos. Even soaked to the skin as they were, the air wasn't cold enough to make them shiver, but the heat and rains birthed billions of the little pests, and even Ango's ointment couldn't shield them completely from their attacks.
The tall monk had been very apologetic when he had broken the news to them. Apparently, Urko had thrown a big enough tantrum that even the temple elders had noticed, and Ango thought it was prudent that they left before said elders turned their attention to his guests. Virdon found it hard to disagree; he was deeply grateful that Melvin's cousin had been willing to take them in at all. Pete had been too weakened, too badly injured, to have survived without the monastery's physician and his herbal remedies.
Virdon threw a quick glance over his shoulder at his friend, who was trudging behind him on the narrow path between young alders with his head down, hands tightly gripping the straps of his backpack. Burke's ribs were still not fully healed, and he was too thin and unable to pick up his usual light, quick runs to scout ahead; but what worried Virdon more was his uncharacteristic silence. He had missed Pete's snark; he realized now that he had unconsciously assumed that it would return with him. But Pete had lost more than a few pounds in Urko's dungeon.
"How close are we?" he called ahead, over Zana's shoulder; he tried to keep his voice low, just in case. "The sun must be rising any moment now."
They had decided to travel by night again; with Burke still recovering, they couldn't hope to outrun a patrol, so they had to opt for staying under the radar as much as possible.
Galen half turned without breaking his stride. "Very close. But we need to cross the river - it's on the other side of it."
Virdon took a deep breath. "If this cave of yours is that close to the river, it may be flooded. Those heavy rains have raised the waterline for sure..."
"Don't worry, Alan." Galen turned back to face ahead. "That cave is some distance away from the shore. I used to hide from my father there."
"So you had a cave to hide in?" Zana sounded amused, if a bit out of breath. "I had a tree I used to climb."
"I know, dear. I once limped up that hill, praying I wouldn't also have to climb into that tree after you." Galen stopped and propped his fists on his hips. "Mothers! You were right, Alan - that river has swollen quite a bit!"
The sky hadn't really gotten any brighter, but Virdon could hear the loud rushing of a strong and fast current ahead of them. He pushed past Zana and stopped at Galen's side. The grassy ground was sloping downward, but the water was covering most of the incline. He couldn't even begin to guess where the actual riverbed was.
"We need to find a spot where we can safely cross," he said after a moment. "I assume there will be fords that take this state into account? After all, that rain season seems to be a regular occurrence."
Galen sighed deeply. "Yes, there is a ford upriver, but it will cost us precious time to get there. My cave is actually right across the river." He pointed. "If we could cross it here, we'd reach it almost immediately."
"Well, that's impossible today, so I suggest we lose no more time." Virdon threw a last glance at the gurgling water that was shimmering faintly under the slowly paling sky. It was just another pebble in their shoes; just a small delay, nothing they couldn't handle. Nothing he'd allow to frustrate him.
Galen led them along the soggy shore, ducking under dripping twigs and helping Zana over gaps in the embankment where the river had bitten out chunks of mud and grass. Virdon had taken the rear from Pete and was dividing his attention between the river and his friend who was rubbing his face with his sleeve almost constantly now. It was annoying to get rainwater in your eyes, yes, but Pete was almost frantic.
No, he was frantic.
"You okay, Pete?"
Burke froze for a second. "Yeah, I'm good. 's just the damn water on my face. I hate that."
Virdon remembered how Burke had swum in the lagoon every day, after their crash; he hadn't had any problems with water back then.
Urko. If in doubt about any of Burke's problems, safely assume the gorilla was the source. Virdon ground his teeth, but said nothing; there wasn't anything he could do or say now, anyway. They'd have to address this at some point, but right now wasn't the right time.
Hell, it was never the right time, with Urko on their tail! And what could he really do? He wasn't a therapist!
But this was worrying... and if he didn't address it, it might get worse. Still, Virdon felt woefully unequipped to tackle the subject of Burke's developing idiosyncrasies.
The sky had greyed up when they finally reached what Galen claimed was the ford; Virdon couldn't see any difference in the swift flow of the water, but trusted that the chimpanzee knew his way around, this close to the City. They were moving up north again, on a more eastern route than last time, but Virdon was expecting one of Urko's death squads any moment; they were still deep in the gorilla's dominion, no matter what route they chose.
He gestured to Galen to lead the way, and after a moment's hesitation, Galen swung the leather bag with his prized book over his head to keep it safe from the water, and instructed Zana to hold on to his backpack and follow exactly in his steps.
Burke was next, but he just stood there, staring at the water. Virdon waited to see if he would find the point of take-off by himself, but that moment didn't come.
"It'll be easier to find your way if you stay close to Galen," he said finally. "Look, the water is only hip-deep here. Your feet will get wet, but not your face."
He could see a blush creep into Pete's pale face, and instantly regretted his last sentence - he hadn't meant to embarrass the younger man. But with a last rub over his face, Burke determinedly splashed into the water and began to wade after the ape couple who had stopped to wait for them.
All went well until they had almost reached the opposite shore.
Pete slipped and crashed into the water so quickly that Virdon didn't even flinch. He just stared at the spot where he had disappeared, expecting Pete's dark head to surface any moment.
Instead, the water began to churn.
After a frozen moment, Virdon pounced on the struggling waves and hauled a wildly thrashing Burke on his feet. "It's okay, Pete, you just slipped, I've got you, it's okay, see, it's okay..."
Virdon evaded a fist and grabbed him harder, pinned his arms into an iron clasp, then, when Burke didn't stop struggling, drew him into a bear-hug. Burke doubled his efforts; Virdon could hear him panting, in heavy, rapid, wheezing breaths that sounded like a drowning man fighting for his life. It struck him that Burke still hadn't realized that he was above the water, out of danger; he was trapped in a nightmare, and like a dreaming man, couldn't hear that Virdon was calling out to him. "Pete! Pete, you're safe! You can breathe! Pete, come on!"
Burke jerked his head back all of a sudden, and smashed his skull into Virdon's face; if he hadn't turned his head sideways, he'd have a broken nose now. His attacks changed, becoming focused, deadly; Virdon remembered that Burke had trained in all kinds of martial arts. Maybe it would be wiser to let him go before he shattered his knee.
Or smashed his throat. Right now, Burke didn't recognize him. But if he let go now, Burke would just blindly race away and fall into the deeper waters along the ford, backpack and all. With his cracked ribs, and weakened by exhaustion, not to mention his disorientation, he'd drown before their eyes.
"Galen! Help me restrain him!" It was the worst of all solutions, having an ape use force against Pete, but-
Burke's elbow hit the sweet spot right under his ribs, and Virdon's knees buckled. His arms slipped off Burke's waist as he was trying to breathe...
... and there Galen was, taking Burke into a chokehold that deserved its name; Virdon struggled to his feet in the brown, foaming water just as Burke's legs gave out under him. He wasn't completely out, just dazed enough for Galen to drag him the last steps to the shore. The ape let him gently down on the grass where he just sat, hugging his knees and shivering, from being soaked to the bone, or from exhaustion, Virdon couldn't say. Probably both.
He crouched down beside him. "Pete? You know where you are?"
Burke was shivering harder now, muttering something through clattering teeth.
"Say again?"
"Can't have... can't have water on my face. 'm sorry. Sorry..."
"You had a panic attack," Virdon said, making his voice as calm and reassuring as he could. "That's nothing you can control. No need to feel ashamed. We're all good. It's all good."
Burke just began to rub his face again; but his hands, his sleeves, were dripping with the river's water, and after a moment of watching him becoming ever more hectic, Virdon unclasped his blanket from his backpack that had somehow stayed above the waterline and was merely damp, and handed it to him. "Put it around yourself after you've dried your face. You're still in shock, you need to conserve your body heat." When Burke made no move to follow his instructions, he draped it over his shoulders himself.
"We need to reach the cave," Galen urged. "We already lost a lot of time, and the morning is already getting pretty late. The patrols will have left the watch houses by now."
Virdon looked at the sorry heap of his friend, then up to Galen. "Just give us a few moments."
Galen's gaze rested on Burke for a second, then met his in silent understanding. "I'll check on our provisions," he said. "We need to eat the ones that got soaked today, before they get mouldy." He bent down to take Burke's backpack, retreated a few steps farther up the slope and shrugged off his own load. Virdon caught Zana's worried look; then she turned around and vanished into the underbrush.
They had been granted their moment of privacy.
They stared out over the rushing river for a long time. Virdon's mind was empty; he felt utterly exhausted. Whatever words he thought up sounded wrong. It was one of the few moments he fervently wished for a pastor, someone to offer words of wisdom and consolation. All he could offer was his company.
"What happened?" he asked finally.
Burke didn't turn his head; he continued to stare across the water. "You saw what happened. I freaked out."
It was clear that he didn't want to talk about it. Virdon grabbed his knees harder. "No. What happened... before?"
Burke didn't answer, and Virdon's unease deepened. He had overstepped a boundary here, and after what had happened, Burke's boundaries were something to be utterly respected at all times...
"He drowned me in a bucket." It was said so low that Virdon at first thought he'd imagined it. Pete sniffed. "Well, tried to, at least."
There was another long silence, while Virdon desperately cast around for something to say. Then Burke laughed, a sudden, brittle sound. "Was the piss bucket. Luckily there was no piss in it." He took a slow, trembling breath. "Din' have the energy to crawl over to use it anymore." His voice was barely audible above the rushing water.
"An' I don' think I even had piss left in me, they never gave me anything to drink... what an irony, huh, you'd think after almost dying of thirst I'd be the biggest fan of water on the planet. Instead I'm terrified of it. Even this rain..." He rubbed his face again, a slow, tired wipe, "Can't stand having water running over my face, it makes me..." He exhaled heavily. "Dizzy, somehow. I dunno where I am anymore, an' I can't keep my balance anymore..."
He paused. Virdon listened. It seemed to be the thing that was most important now, to listen, with rapt attention, to listen to this account, to receive all this pain, to suffer it, to share it, maybe... maybe to carry it for a bit, so that Pete could breathe again. Not struggle for air so violently because the memory had trapped him in an iron grip, like he had, a few moments ago.
"I used to go diving. Even with all the pollution and dying reefs, it was still gorgeous down there. Not as silent as all those Cousteau films make you believe, but it's another world alright." Burke laughed again, the same bitter sound, brittle and shaky. "Now I'm pissing myself when it rains on my face." He rubbed his eyes.
"An' I wonder... I wonder how many other things I won't be able to do, things I don't even know of yet. What little thing will set me off next, and... what if I freak out in the middle of a run? Or while we're hiding from a patrol?" Despair was sharp in his voice now. "I'll endanger all of you. I'm a liability." He inhaled shakily. "You should've let him go through with it."
For the first time since they had sat down on the soggy shore, Virdon didn't have to search for words. "Never in a million years."
"I was okay with it, y'know?" Burke was still not looking at him. "He told me what they were gonna do to me, an' I... it would've been over either way. An' I was so...
"I was done. I was ready, really ready to die, or to... to vanish." He laid his head on his knees and sighed, an utterly exhausted sound.
Virdon put his arm around his shoulders. The bones were poking into his flesh - he'd have to have a close eye on Pete's meals in the future. "None of us were ready for you to die. Zana..."
He felt Burke's shoulders tense. "Zana loves you, Pete. Not romantically, of course, but not like I loved the dog I had as a boy, either. She loves you like a brother. Not all of them are like Urko."
Burke sniffed. "Nah, don't fool yourself, Al. Zana's an anomaly." He turned around, and the look in his eyes was at once mocking and ... something else. Despairing?
"An' how about you, Al? Do you love me?"
Virdon calmly returned his gaze. "Like a brother."
Burke stared at him. Then he swallowed heavily
Virdon continued in the same deadpan voice. "An obnoxious, loud-mouthed, binge-drinking, ladykiller younger brother who nabs Dad's car keys and then calls me at 3 am to haul his sorry ass home, and begs me to protect him from Dad's wrath when he'll discover that he totaled the car."
Burke coughed a laugh at that, although Virdon thought he could hear some tears in that laugh. He said nothing, just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Then Zana was there all of a sudden. "Here, Pete, I made this for you. So that your face doesn't get wet anymore."
She held a hat in her hands, hastily woven from twigs and rushes. Burke stared up at her for a moment, slack-mouthed, and Virdon was sure he could see tears now in the corners of his eyes, but then Burke quickly ducked his head and slammed the hat on. "Thanks, Zana."
Maybe he had imagined it.
They got up, Galen handed Burke his backpack, and Virdon rolled up his blanket that he'd hopefully unroll again in a few minutes in that cave; he was ready to sleep, damp fabric or not.
Galen suddenly froze, staring over Pete's shoulder.
"Patrol!"
They all turned to run, a reflex trained into them by now, trying to vanish into the thicket, where they would be hidden, and the horses couldn't easily follow.
Shots cracked, and suddenly a hot pain slammed into Virdon's right hip, and his leg gave out under him as if it was made of wood. He fell, crashing into the underwood like a wounded deer.
Behind him, he could hear the triumphant whoops of the apes.
For a long moment, the world tilted sideways and slowed down, and Zana was hit by a dizzying sensation of unreality. She was back on the road, running through the underbrush without getting ahead, and any moment now, she'd see Peet being crowded by a pack of black uniforms, drawn under, dragged away into the darkness of Urko's horrors...
Then a shot cracked, and the world sped up again, and Alan fell on his side, broke down silently, his eyes huge and dark.
The cry that ripped through the trees was Peet's.
It had no words; she wasn't even sure if Peet was aware of the sound he was making, raw and wild, like a wounded animal. He was sprinting towards Alan, who still lay there as if he couldn't believe what had happened to him, and slung his arm over his shoulder, then tried to pull him to his feet. Alan struggled up, but broke down again at once, his leg twisting inward as if it was paralyzed. Peet, still grabbing his wrist, was dragged down with him, a frustrated groan escaping from his mouth.
At the opposite shore, the officers were urging their horses into the water.
Zana blinked, trying to chase the fog in her mind away. Peet's ribs hadn't healed yet; he wouldn't be able to carry his friend to safety. It hit her then - his groan hadn't been one of frustration, but of pain.
Suddenly her own paralysis lifted; she whirled around to Galen, who stood there gaping at Alan, just as she had been a moment ago. "You need to help Alan! Peet can't carry him... quick, the patrol is already crossing the ford!"
She impatiently tugged at his sleeve when he didn't react, and after a moment, he blinked at her, shoved his leather bag into her arms and broke into a run towards where the humans were still struggling to get up from the ground. Zana watched, the bag hugged tightly against her chest, as he shoved Peet aside and slung Alan over his shoulder. He staggered a bit when he straightened to stand up; although apes were a lot stronger than humans, Alan was a full grown male, and not exactly a lightweight.
She flinched at the barrage of splashing sounds coming from the river, her heart picking up speed as if it wanted to urge her to follow it and run, run, run. Her chest was tight; this was like their last, doomed flight off the road, all over again, only this time it was Alan they'd get, not Peet.
Or maybe this time, they'd get all of them.
Galen was jogging up to her, already panting under Alan's weight. Alan was limp and silent, although he had seemed conscious a moment ago, maybe he was in shock. Maybe she was in shock, thinking too much, still glued to the spot-
Peet grabbed her arm in passing and tore her around, gave her a tug in the right direction, then let go immediately. She finally broke into a run, last of their group, throwing panicked glances behind her. Right now, she couldn't see the patrol anymore, but there was no doubt inside her that they would force their mounts through the thickets, just like they had forced them into the swollen river. She could only hope that the horses would put up enough resistance to slow them down, so that they could shake them off.
She hoped they'd be able to shake them off. With Alan's weight adding to his own, Galen's footprints would be deeper, clearly visible even for an untrained eye. And after all this rain, the ground was soft like wet clay, ready to be imprinted with the story of their flight.
She didn't know how long she'd be able to bear those frequent frights, those moments of terror and desperate races for cover, the constant tension, always expecting a sudden attack to shatter another deceptively peaceful moment...
Galen suddenly ducked to the right and was gone. It happened so quickly that both she and Peet stopped in their tracks, dumbfounded. Behind them, sounds of splintering wood announced that the patrol was closing in. Peet's gaze flickered across the path; he was as confused as she was. She half expected him to curse and make a smart-assed comment, but he kept silent, his lips tightened into a thin line.
And then something grabbed her and dragged her through the veil of leaves. Zana stifled a cry as she realized, twigs whipping into her face, that it had to be Galen who was whisking her away from the path, out of sight of the patrol, and into a murky, grey darkness. A moment later, Peet joined them; he had found his way without Galen's help, simply following her. Zana suspected that Galen had been wise enough not to manhandle him; Peet couldn't bear the touch of an ape anymore.
Not even from her.
Galen sent them further inside, to the back of the cave, and she and Peet half dragged, half supported Alan, while Galen fumbled with the greenery to cover the entrance once more. They all froze when hoofbeats suddenly thundered by; but they didn't stop, and after a moment, they were gone in the distance.
"They'll circle back as soon as they realize that they've lost the trail." Burke's voice was a harsh whisper, echoing sharply from the stone walls.
"Well, what do you suggest?" Galen's whisper was quieter, but no less sharp. "That we break our cover and run around in the bushes some more? With Alan slung over my shoulder like a dead fox? This cave is our best hope to survive this-"
Alan's moan cut him short; every face turned towards the entrance as they strained their ears for any sound that would announce they had been heard.
"Fuck those monkeys," Peet muttered hoarsely, "we need to patch up Al before he loses too much blood. Need to see where he's been hit, an' clean the wound..." Zana saw his head turn in the half-light, searching for a spot that would make a more comfortable bed for his friend.
"There is a smaller room in the back," Galen whispered, and led them deeper into the cave. He and Peet were now supporting Alan from either side, and Zana followed them, trying to get her nerves under control. Outside was deadly now; as much as she hated underground dwellings, she had to be grateful that Galen had discovered this little sanctuary as a boy. Hopefully, none of the local police officers had ever played here as a child.
The 'room' was a narrow compartment with a low ceiling that hovered no more than a finger's breadth over their heads; Peet couldn't stand upright under it. It didn't matter right now - he was crouching at Alan's side, trying to determine where his friend had been hit.
"If you wait just another moment, I'll make a fire," Galen said. "There should be a stack of firewood over... ah, there it is." He ducked into the darkest corner of the compartment and returned with an armful of firewood. "Dry as professor Zuna's lectures."
Dry wood - no smoke, and more importantly, it would give off palpable heat. They'd be able to dry their clothes, themselves, and their bedrolls, cook some food, make tea...
If only Alan hadn't been shot, it could've been a really nice retreat. Now, the water simmering over their small campfire would be used to clean his wound. Zana dumped a generous spoonful of Ango's fever mixture into it. Peet had dragged down Alan's pants and instructed him to roll on his side. He didn't like what he saw.
"No exit wound. That means the damn thing is lodged somewhere in your hip."
Alan's face was pale in the firelight. "If it had exited, it'd have shattered the bone. I was lucky."
Peet snorted. "Yeah, damn lucky. It's a miracle they hit you at all from that distance. That bastard was a good shot." It didn't sound approving.
Zana strained the decoction through a filtering cloth and shuffled over to the humans. Peet was probing pressure points on Alan's right leg. "Do you feel that?"
"Yeah."
"And that?"
"Yeah..."
"And that?"
Alan hesitated. Peet pressed his finger deeper into his muscle. "Barely," Alan finally admitted.
Zana saw Peet swallow. "The bullet must be near a nerve. If it moves..."
She didn't have to ask if that was bad. Zana bent down and offered the mug to Alan. "This is for preventing a fever, Alan. We'll take the rest to clean your wound. It's bad enough already, no need to let it get infected."
Alan took the mug and sniffed at the steam rising from it. "It smells like chamomille."
"It's a mixture of different-"
"Chamomille for a bullet wound!" Peet scoffed. "That's like prescribing chicken soup for the bubonic plague!" But he took the bowl and started to clean Alan's wound.
"We need to get you to a hospital, Al," he said after a moment of tense silence. "This ain't something that will get better by itself. And you need your leg, if we wanna have any chance to get to the mountains."
"Sure, Pete." Alan's voice was low, but sharp with sarcasm. "We just walk into an ape hospital and fill out the application blank. Urko's men would be all over the place before you can say 'no insurance'." He took another sip of the tea; Zana could hear his teeth clatter against the rim of the mug.
"There's a medical center at the northern outskirts of the City," Galen remarked. He was spreading their damp clothes and bedrolls around the fire. Small as it was, it had heated the cramped compartment remarkably quickly.
"You're not suggesting we go back?" Alan sounded incredulous. No, Zana decided after a moment - he sounded desperate. The City was clinging to them like one of those magnetite globes children used to play with, forcing them to return to it again and again.
"How good is that center?" Peet asked. The idea of going back had to be worse for him, but his face was expressionless.
Galen had filled the kettle again and set it over the fire. "The best in the world - this world."
"I'm not letting you stick your necks out," Virdon protested. "I'll take my chances that this bullet will settle in a noncritical spot if I give it time and rest."
"Save your breath, Al," Peet said tersely. "Say we get to this place, Galen." He paused, and an unreadable expression flickered over his face. "The apes don't reserve their best medical aid for humans."
Zana wondered if he was thinking of the medical experimentation he had narrowly escaped, or if he had been treated... mistreated by one of the police medics during his capture. She had no idea what had happened there. Peet kept her at a distance since his return, and she had never found the right opportunity to ask.
"I know the chief surgeon at the center," Galen said, his attention focused on making tea. "She's an old friend. She'll help us." Zana narrowed her eyes - she wasn't fooled by his casual demeanour.
Peet shook his head. "Is there someone you don't know?"
"Whoever that surgeon is, she has no reason to help us," Alan ground out. His whole body was tense, from pain or distress over his friends' dangerous plans. "I doubt that all your friends are as eccentric as Melvin. We're enemies of the state!"
Galen straightened and met his gaze. "Kira is a physician, she doesn't care about politics. Even if she knew about you, she wouldn't turn her back on you. She has sworn a healer's oath to treat everyone who needs medical help."
Alan stared at him, his fingers white around the mug. "I'm sure that oath refers only to apes, Galen - not to animals."
For a moment, nobody spoke. Something dark and tight melted in Zana's chest; she felt warm, and soft, and wide, as if she could inhale, and inhale, and never stop. Galen had grouped Alan on the "person" side of the abyss; and he had done so without even being aware of it. She wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to laugh like a macaque, but she kept her body still and her face straight. The giddiness was bubbling inside her like fermenting honey.
Galen, on the other hand, was flustered. "Ah, ah... uhm... she'll do it anyway," he finally managed. He stood, tea forgotten. "We... we're still the best of friends. She'll do it for old times' sake."
The bubbling inside Zana's chest simmered down a bit; for a moment, it had seemed as if Galen had wanted to say something else. What was the name of the surgeon again? She thought she might have heard it before, somewhere. But she couldn't put her finger on it.
"We have no other choice," Peet decided. He nodded at Galen. "You think it's safe to go? The patrol could still be sniffing around somewhere."
Galen shrugged. "Don't worry about me. I know this place inside and out, I came here almost every week as a boy. And don't worry about Kira - I'm an expert in female psychology; she won't let me down." He ducked out of the cave before anyone could protest.
He hadn't even said his goodbye to her. Zana crouched down at the fire and poured herself a mug of tea. The first sip burned her tongue, but didn't dissipate the cold that was spreading inside her. Peet was dragging Alan's soaked pants off and hung them over the stack of firewood to dry. "An expert in female psychology, huh?" he said, not looking at her. "Can you confirm?"
Zana didn't answer. Peet's tone lacked his usual friendly teasing note, and she didn't want to examine that change or its meaning right now. Something else was vying for her attention - she had finally remembered where she had heard that name before. It had been in Yalu's house, at that first, horrible dinner with Galen's parents. Kira had been Galen's first love - the woman he had wanted to marry. And just now, he had been awfully eager to meet her again.
She, on the other hand, wasn't eager to meet Kira at all.
Using hot water for washing up was being frowned upon, and for good reason. In a hospital, one had to wash one's hands so often that the skin was inevitably getting dry and itchy; no need to hasten that process by using hot water. But today, Kira allowed herself to indulge in that unhealthy luxury. It had been the last surgery of the day, and her bones were aching. They had been standing in there for hours, fighting for the little boy's life, trying to urge his blood to flow into the right direction through the liver, closing holes in the blood vessels that had caused it to take wrong turns.
In the end, her efforts had been in vain.
If she had succeeded, she'd have been the first physician to ever have accomplished that feat. She'd be circling the conferences, give lectures, be made immortal in surgery textbooks.
Most importantly, she wouldn't have to face the boy's parents. Wouldn't have to witness them breaking down in each other's arms.
"Kira."
She started, shaken out of her depression by the deep, smooth voice. She turned her head and smiled at Leander, director of Mauris Medical Center, chief resident, and probably her fiancé... if everything went well.
Right now, her hopefully-soon-fiancé leaned in the doorframe, regarding her with a mixture of admiration and pride for his own accomplishment. "I watched the operation. You did a brilliant job."
Leander reminded her of a big, silky-haired tomcat, one that had never known anything else in life but the sweet taste of cream and salmon and the admiration of his court. Kira didn't mind his vanity - it was useful if you remembered to stroke it occasionally - but today, she didn't feel like bathing in the glory of his mentorship.
"Technically brilliant, yes - the patient still died." She shook the water from her hands and turned to leave. But Leander didn't move in the doorframe, so she just leaned against the basin.
"The operation was a success," Leander insisted. "The surgical knowledge we gain from these failures will someday help other patients... and surgeons."
"And how many children will I have to go through until we can save apekind?" With a huff, Kira pushed away from the sink, determined to get away from the place of her defeat. She shouldn't snap at him like that - infatuation aside, he was still her superior. But she couldn't get that tiny face out of her mind. Her job would be much easier if she didn't have to visit her patients before surgery.
Thankfully, Leander gave way and let her through. He fell into step beside her as she made her way back to her office. "You think I'm cruel?" His smile was infectious, and Kira felt her heart melt again. She never could stay mad at him for long. "You can tell me."
"Tell the truth to my superior?" she said with mock horror. "I could get fired for such recklessness."
Leander took her hand. "Only a fool would fire his best... and most beautiful surgeon." As much as he loved being admired, her boss had always been generous with praise for her, too, both for her professional and her personal assets. Kira didn't mind - Leander was smart, skilled at his job both as surgeon and administrator, and he knew what he wanted. He was... sure of himself. Accomplished. She had learned to value those qualities.
"I'll see you at the conference tomorrow night, won't I?" he asked casually.
Kira frowned. If there was a conference, she had totally forgotten about it. Well, considering her workload, it was a miracle she remembered her own name some days. "What conference?"
"A private lecture I'm giving," Leander said innocently, "on the therapeutic virtues of vegetable casserole and apricot wine. I'm holding it in my apartment, at eight."
It was the closest thing they had to a date night. Neither of their schedules allowed for a night in town, not without major logistical efforts. Kira felt a smile tug at her cheeks, but she heroically kept it under control. "Is attendance mandatory?"
Leander's voice dropped another octave. "Only for you."
Now she allowed that smile to show. "In that case, I'll be there."
They couldn't kiss in the corridor, not in front of the staff and the human that was sweeping the floor. She quickly squeezed Leander's arm before she stepped into her office. Downtime was over; she had a mountain of paperwork waiting for her... after she had that talk with the parents. They had sent a human to fetch them, as they never allowed family to wait in the corridors, a rule that she had insisted on; it didn't do them any good, and the knowledge that they were hovering at the other side of the door to the operation room set her teeth on edge. It wouldn't be long now before they would arrive-
There was a flower on her desk.
Leander sometimes sent her flowers, but not this kind. Kira slowly reached for the thick stem. The flower's sweet, heavy scent filled the whole room; why hadn't she noticed it sooner? She pressed her lips together as she regarded the deep violet petals. Picked from the marshes, not bought in a flower shop. Only one man had ever given her dragon flowers.
"Hello."
She didn't look up. "As simple as that."
Then she lifted her gaze to him and tilted the flower in her hand. "This to remind me, a casual 'hello', and everything else is forgotten." She didn't feel angry; she was too dazed to be angry.
He looked... no, not older. More serious. Less insecure. As infuriatingly mellow as always. The smile didn't reach his eyes. "Not everything..."
She turned her back to him and dropped the flower on her desk. "Go away, Galen."
"I came here for help..."
Of course. Of course he hadn't come for her. Why did she feel a spark of anger at that? She had broken up with him back then, she had moved on, she had allowed Leander's advances, she had given up on Galen. "You're a criminal and a traitor."
"You don't really think that." He didn't raise his voice. Kira wished he'd get angry only once, passionate about something only once, worth a challenge only once. She whirled around. "What else would I think? Galen, I don't want to argue." It was too annoying to argue with him, like fighting in the fog. "It's too dangerous for you here. Please go away."
He took a step towards her and she retreated, bumping into her desk. Galen stopped, his face unreadable. If he thought she was afraid of him...
"One of my friends is hurt," he said finally.
"The only friends you have left are humans!" She hurled it against him like a personal insult, but he didn't flinch. It was just like in the bad old times - nothing she used against him worked. Kira clenched her teeth in frustration.
"He may die if you don't help." Now his tone was pleading. Galen pleading for a human! She didn't know if she should laugh or snarl with disgust.
"Why should I care if a human dies?" Why should I care if it hurts you? Maybe I only care that it hurts you.
"If for no other reason, because I care - a very great deal." She saw that he was serious, saw it in his eyes, dark and worried; they were pinning her down, demanding her to give in, to treat the wildling pet of a criminal, to endanger her career, Leander's career, both of her futures...
... for old times' sake. She wanted to spit in his face.
Instead she clenched her fists so tightly that she felt her fingernails bite into her palms. "I don't know you. You're a stranger, a renegade, who... who chose to live with humans!"
Galen closed his eyes for a moment at that slur, but he still refused to rise to the bait. "Is that such a dreadful crime?"
She understood that he had chosen to react to the literal meaning of her words; it made her feel embarrassed at herself, and furious at him. "I should call the police."
"They'd kill me."
The bluntness of his words stopped her in her tracks. They stared at each other for a long moment, while the silence between them grew thick and poisonous.
How did we ever love each other?
"They'd be doing justice," she said, but her voice was brittle and weak. Please go away.
Galen said nothing for a long time. When he did, his voice was low and terribly calm. "I loved you. To hear these words from you now..." He looked away, the first time since had stepped out from behind the curtains, and Kira found she could breathe again. "I'm sorry I came." He turned to the window.
He had to have climbed into her office through it. She would have to talk to Travin, have some bars installed... "Galen."
He turned back, wary. She blinked at him. She had no idea what she had wanted to say to him.
Then the words came tumbling out of her mouth, from whatever dark corner of her heart. "You were a normal, law-abiding ape once, Galen. What happened to you?"
Galen leaned against the windowsill, a spark of the old irony appearing in his eyes. "I had a terrible accident. I collided with the truth."
"And what truth would that be? That apes and humans are created equal?"
His eyes became hooded. "Among other things."
Kira rubbed her burning eyes. She was so tired. She had a grieving couple waiting for her - no, right now, it was a desperately hopeful couple. She had her lover planning his romantic dinner for her, while her ex-lover was trying to cajole her into blowing up her future.
This isn't fair.
"You really believe that?"
"Yes." And he did. She could hear it in the finality of his tone, see it in the seriousness in his eyes. So simple.
So deadly.
"And to help you, I must help them?"
Galen hesitated. "They are my brothers now." He sounded astonished, as if it was something that he had realized in the very moment he'd said it.
This at least was a trait she recognized - that digging in when he managed to get hold of something he could believe in, those rare shreds of truth that he stubbornly clung to, as if he'd be lost without them. It all came back now; Kira could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.
Damn you!
"I thought I had forgotten you, that I had a chance to find a new happiness." She refused to cry, even if it were tears of fury. She wouldn't give him that satisfaction. "I should've known you'd come back to destroy that chance!"
She'd never be free of him.
When Galen returned, both Zana and Alan were sleeping by the fire, Alan fitfully, Zana quiet like a stone. Peet however moved into a crouch with a fluid motion that reminded him of a bushcat; even his eyes were as dark and intent as that of the beast when it was focused on its unwitting prey.
Then he relaxed. "What took so long?" He kept his voice low so as not to wake the others.
Galen let the bag slide from his shoulder. "I had to pick up a medical degree." He bent down and opened the bag. "This is for the renowned specialist, Dr. Kova." He held up a physician's coat. "And this is for his faithful servant. That would be you." He tossed an orderly's uniform to him, and the human caught it by reflex. Then he frowned.
"So I'm gonna have to call you 'master' again?"
Galen pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm afraid so. Peet, I didn't make this world. I just live in it, just like you."
Peet's fists were gripping the fabric. "I'd say you live a lot more comfortably in it than me, buddy."
He wouldn't get upset with Peet. The human had been through a lot. Still, Galen glanced meaningfully at their surroundings. "You think so?"
Peet took a deep breath. "Yeah, not... not at the moment, I'll grant you that." He raked his hand through his hair, a gesture that, as Zana had told him, indicated stress. "They should call you The Phantom - The Ape Of A Thousand Disguises."
It was clear that he was attempting to lighten the mood, and Galen was glad to join in the banter. "That talent was quite handy when we stole you from another hospital not too long ago." A wild mixture of pride and terror still made him tremble with that memory.
"It was just a fucking joke, okay?"
Galen blinked. Peet was staring at him over the small fire, his eyes black holes in a white face. "I just made a joke, I didn't make fun of you, you don't have to push my nose in how this super awesome talent of yours saved my sorry ass at every fucking opportunity! I'm grateful, massa, I'm deeply grateful! Are you happy now? Jesus fucking Christ!" He hurled the uniform into the darkness behind the fire and stormed out, his shoulder connecting painfully with Galen's as he brushed past him.
For a moment, Galen was too stunned to move, to think.
Zana sat up with a groggy moan. "What just happened?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "I thought I heard Peet yell..."
"I don't have the slightest idea." He quickly recapped their conversation. "I'm trying to find the thing that made him so angry, but I can't find it. I didn't mean to... to embarrass him, or imply that he owes me something..." He felt shaken; that outburst of fury and humiliation had come so unexpected. He remembered Melvin in his kitchen, then quickly discarded the memory.
"Where is he now?" Zana stretched and tilted the kettle to peer inside. She let go with a dismayed sigh, and he felt slightly guilty, but he hadn't had an opportunity to refill, and he had totally forgotten about it over that strange fight...
"He ran outside. One of us should probably go and, and calm him down."
Both their heads turned to Alan; he was a fellow human, and he held some sort of authority over Peet, and it was clear that Peet trusted him more than he trusted either of them...
"I'll go," Zana said. "I can refill our kettle while I'm outside." Her gaze fell on the crumpled uniforms on the floor. "We'll at least have tea before we leave." She quickly squeezed his shoulder in passing. "You did nothing wrong, dear. Peet is... he's become a bit fey. He'll get better, we just have to be patient."
He hoped so. Melvin's warning was still vivid in his mind.
Galen bent down to pick up the orderly uniform; for his plan to work, Peet had to be brought to heel somehow. How in the world he was going to do that without setting off another fit of rage, he had no-
"Yet another costume?"
Galen threw a wary look over his shoulder, but Alan was just amused, not offended like his younger friend. He was propped up on one elbow, his face pale, but not too pinched from pain. Apparently, Ango's tea was doing at least some good. Galen suspected that there was something much stronger in it than just chamomille... the herb did a good job to conceal other flavours.
He shrugged. "We can't very well turn up there as ourselves. Even Kira was aware of the bounty on my head."
Alan frowned. "And she still agreed to help you?"
"She did." For reasons he still didn't understand.
Alan exhaled and let himself sink back into the blankets. "Even if this crazy masquerade works, that hospital is miles away. I can barely stand up, let alone walk that distance - I'd never make it."
"I've worn crazier costumes," Galen said dryly, remembering his stint as street vendor. "And a patient of your eminence shouldn't have to walk at all." He winked at Alan, which only deepened the human's frown.
"What are you up to now?"
Galen sniffed. "Drink your tea and leave the rest to me." He stood and hurried outside before Alan could probe some more. He was pretty sure the human wouldn't approve of his plan.
He was also sure that the other human at his disposal wouldn't have any objections to his plan, but that was actually the worrisome part about the whole business. Peet was still outside, thumbs tucked into his belt, staring into the greenery. Zana was nowhere to be seen.
"She's gone to the well." Peet didn't even turn his head. His jaw was set, his shoulders tense. Galen suppressed a sigh. He had done nothing wrong, but this wasn't the time to insist on fairness. One of them had to be the greater person. Right now, he was annoyed enough to not even grant Peet that status. Mothers, he wasn't going to spat with a human!
"It was not my intention to anger you," he said quietly. "It's not easy for me to pretend to be someone else... I was just glad it had worked so well the last time. I hope it will work as well now... for Alan's sake."
Maybe it was also not fair to invoke Alan, but it worked: Peet closed his eyes and sighed deeply, and the tension left him on the exhale, drooping his shoulders. "Sorry I blew up like that," he mumbled.
Galen dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. "What's more important, I need your help. Alan can't walk, and I can't carry him the whole way. Besides, it wouldn't fit with my role. An ape doesn't carry his servant."
Peet eyed him warily. "So you wanna steal a cart?"
Galen smiled. "No, I want to rob one."
Peet stared at him. Then a slow smile spread over his face. "Nice. So what do you need me for?"
Galen moved to take his elbow, then thought better of it and just gestured him to follow him down the path towards the main road. "I need you for robbing the cart. It won't be long before word of that crime reaches Urko, and it's best if it doesn't mention an ape and a human working together. Even if it only buys us an hour..."
Peet snorted. "Sure. Whatever you say. I'll rob that cart for you, under one condition."
Of course. Dreading the answer, Galen asked, "What condition?"
"I'll get your knife. - No, I'm not gonna kill anyone," Peet held up a hand to stop his protest, "but I need a stronger argument than just my and that guy's shared humanity. We aren't all brothers, y'know?"
Mistreated humans can get dangerous. He was in Melvin's kitchen again, smelling the sharp aroma of garlic and pepper. "What if it's an ape?"
"Then I wait for the next cart," Peet's face went blank. Shuttered. "I'm not gonna rob an ape's cart. Besides," he added after a moment of tense silence, "guess if a human reports his cart got stolen it won't have as high priority as when an ape complains."
It wasn't the real reason he refused to come near an ape, Galen suspected, but nevertheless a valid one. They had to utilize every little advantage they could get.
Which meant he had to trust this fey human with his knife. So that they could save another human.
I must be completely out of my mind.
He wordlessly handed over the knife. Peet took it and vanished into the thicket. Galen watched him flag down one of the empty carts leaving the City, smile up at the driver while he probably asked for a ride, and smile as he held the blade against the other's throat.
How could I ever call them brothers?
He had done it to throw Kira off balance. Galen's nose twitched as he thought back to their encounter in her office. To stun her into agreeing to help him, to convince her that he was serious about this human.
And he had been, hadn't he? He absently watched as Peet escorted the human away from the road and into the underbrush, and out of sight. He really liked Alan, who was calmer, more stable, more reasonable-
He remembered Alan's eyes when he had been on the hunt for Peet.
Beware the beast Man, for it is the harbinger of death...
No, apes and humans could never be brothers.
Peet returned, turned the cart around and waved impatiently for him to leave his cover. With a sigh, Galen came to his feet.
Time to give the stage to Dr. Kova.