It was a lovely dinner.
Leander had outdone himself - the table was covered with heavy white linen and lightened by two beeswax candles, mingling the scent of honey with the aromas of the casserole. The pastel shade of apricot wine that he was swirling in his glass tinted Leander's face as he studied her thoughtfully from across the table. "You don't seem to be very excited about the casserole. Did I put in too much honey?"
Kira hastily shoved a forkful of steamed vegetables into her mouth. "It's delicious." She much preferred meat. That new fad of vegetarianism among Chimpanzees was nothing but a blatant - and embarrassing - attempt to appear sophisticated. Just because Orangutans were vegetarians... "Really, it is. I'm just not very hungry tonight."
"Are you still brooding over today's surgery?"
She wasn't; she had learned long ago not to dwell on failures, recent or... not so recent. But it was probably wise to utilize the opening he had offered her; a rejection of Leander's creations could easily be taken as a rejection of Leander himself. He was touchy in that regard.
So, she was brooding over something. Not the surgery; she didn't want to think about the boy now.
"I was thinking about that orderly we sent to labour camp to be disciplined for stealing." She tossed out the first thing that came to mind. Leander raised his brows.
Why had the first thing to come to her mind to be a human?
Galen.
Damn you.
But now she had raised the subject, she couldn't just drop it. Leander was still waiting for the point she was about to make.
Mothers! If only I knew what point I wanted to make!
"... was it really necessary to treat it so harshly?" She felt her palms get sweaty with embarrassment. "I just wonder..." she added lamely.
Leander took a sip from his wine before he answered her. "It behaved like an unruly beast," he said at last. "Like an unruly beast, it was punished. Where is the harshness?"
Yes, where indeed. Kira took a sip from her wine, remembering how they had caught the human stealing drugs against fever from the dispensary; it had claimed it was for a family member back in the human settlement. A sister or a daughter, she couldn't remember.
It had actually been pretty intelligent to observe which bottles were used for which ailment, and then to correctly deduce that the same globuli could also help its own pack against similar illnesses. "But are humans nothing more than beasts?"
The human had pleaded, not for mercy for itself; it had begged her to send some more of the medicine to its village. She had forgotten about it as soon as the guards had taken it away. Kira took another sip from her wine, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.
"They can be useful animals, at their best," Leander conceded. "But they need a firm and sometimes even harsh hand. At their worst, they are carriers of hatred and destruction."
It wasn't intelligence that separated ape from animal; it wasn't even speech. It was the ability to abide by higher principles, to grasp the concept of values like honor and love.
But hadn't the human loved its family, so much so even that it had risked severe punishment?
No, Kira decided. All animals cared for and protected their litter. It was instinct, nothing more. "Harbingers of Death, that must be stomped out?"
"Of course." Leander eyed her over the rim of his glass as if he was wondering... she had no idea what he was thinking. Maybe he wondered if she was considering getting a human as a pet.
A knock at the door released her from his searching gaze. "Come in."
A young Chimpanzee stuck his head in; Dr. Stole, the new intern. He wisely didn't dare to enter the director's private quarters. "I'm sorry for interrupting, Director. There's a new arrival, a Dr. Kova. He says Dr. Kira is expecting him."
"Ah, of course." If Leander was annoyed about the interruption, he didn't show it. Kira hoped her own relief was equally well hidden. "That's the colleague from the north you mentioned to me."
She rose. "Yes. I'd better show him to his quarters." It wasn't necessary, they could have pushed it onto the intern; being loaded up with work no one else wanted to do was the natural state of being for the interns. But she wanted to get away from this strange conversation about humans and their treatment, even if it meant she had to face Galen and his humans instead.
No. Galen and his beasts. She wouldn't allow herself to get infected by his newly acquired humanitarianism. He had probably gotten it from the zoologist he had hooked up with. Apparently, she had studied humans before she eloped with him. Maybe allowing oneself to be around them for extended periods of time had a corrupting effect on one's virtue.
She bent down to receive a peck on the cheek. "Thank you for a lovely evening. I promise not to be such a bore the next time... if you aren't too annoyed with me to invite me again."
Leander smiled up at her, but his eyes were piercing. "I will never be too annoyed with you to invite you for dinner... but maybe I'll let you prepare it next time."
She forced herself to laugh. "It's an appropriate punishment - I just can't say whether for me or for you. I'm a terrible cook."
"Well, you'll at least have to pick the wine!" he called after her.
Kira's smile faded as soon as she had closed the door behind her. Time to meet her newest patient. Dr. Mepela Kira, veterinarian. What a career jump.
Well, maybe she would learn something useful from it, at least. For future patients... and surgeons.
It was night when they finally rumbled into the clinic's backyard; the prohibition against horses for humans went so far that they couldn't even use them to pull their carts. They had ambled back to the city at ox speed, while the tension inside Burke grew and grew until he felt ready to kill something. He had half hoped that they'd meet a patrol; Galen had forgotten to demand his knife back, and Burke wasn't going to remind him.
The tension didn't dissolve even now, when he jumped down from the driver's seat and raced to the back of the cart to fold back the tarpaulin. "How is he?"
Galen jumped off the cart and turned to offer his help to Zana. "Unchanged. Don't worry, Peet, he is in good hands now - or he will be, in a few moments." He nodded towards the dark mouth of the back entrance, from where a chimp in a bright yellow robe was striding towards them.
She just flicked him a quick glance before she turned to Galen, and Burke felt his mouth water as a wave of nausea hit him. The chimp's eyes were cold, but the way she moved reminded him of Zana. She was standing right next to Zana now, and the impression of them being siblings intensified.
It had been the same with Vanda. Vanda had reminded him of Zana, too, and that had been his biggest mistake. Burke swallowed his saliva before he could drown in it, and touched the hilt of the knife at his back. Since he had... come back, it somehow worked the other way round - every time he looked at Zana, he was reminded of Vanda, and every time he saw a female chimp, he was reminded of Zana, and then he was reminded of Vanda.
But the cold look in that chimp's eyes had reminded him straight of Vanda, no detour to Zana necessary.
You better decide right now if you want every chimp from here to the mountains to be a reminder of Vanda. 'cause in case you'd forgotten, this damn planet now belongs to them.
He should turn this around so that they reminded him of Zana, instead. Zana was... she was alright. She was safe, as safe as any ape could be for a human. Yeah, it would be definitely better if they all were Zana to him - would increase his chances to not kill one of them some day.
If only he knew how the hell he was supposed to do that.
"Dr. Kova," the chimp said stiffly. She inclined her head a tiny fraction, the bare minimum of greeting; she clearly wasn't pleased about Galen's presence.
Galen didn't seem to notice, or to mind. "Dr. Kira. Apologies for being late - we had an accident. One of my orderlies was injured." He stepped aside to reveal Virdon lying on the floor of the cart, conscious but drowsy from whatever Ango had hidden under the chamomille in his tea.
So this was Galen's old friend who he had been so sure would be helping them. She sure looked ecstatic about the prospect. Burke took slow breaths and tried to peel the memory of Vanda off her; it wasn't easy, not with the doctor's sullen face as she peered inside the cart.
She's like Zana, he tried to persuade himself. She's... almost the same size, and the same age, and they're both scientists, and, and... and I bet she can give you a good ass whopping if you need it, just like Zana... For a short moment, he wondered what it would be like if those two locked horns with each other. Zana at least seemed to be as taken with Galen's choice of friends as he felt right now himself. She was frowning slightly at the doctor's lack of interest in a wounded human.
After another quick glance, Kira turned away from Virdon and towards a short, stocky man with gray hair. "Travin, find room for these two in the humans' quarters. - I'll show you to your room, Doctor." She began to walk back to the main building without looking back, clearly expecting Galen and Zana to follow her.
"Wait!" Burke knew it was probably a bad idea to shout after the chimp, but he couldn't keep silent now. "You haven't even examined him! He needs help, stat!"
The chimp whipped around. "I urgently suggest you keep your humans on a short leash while you're here," she snapped at Galen. "Director Leander does not tolerate unruly beasts in his clinic, and neither do I!"
Galen's nostrils flared. "My apologies, doctor. These humans are close to each other... it won't happen again." He shot a meaningful glare at Burke and slightly shook his head, then reconsidered and came back, quickly crossing the distance between them. "Let me handle Kira, Peet," he said in a low voice. "Find a quiet place for Alan, and get rid of the cart. We need to be as inconspicuous as possible. We'll talk later." He lightly touched his arm and turned away.
Burke took a deep breath and fingered his knife. He could be patient. He could stay in control.
He turned to Travin. "Alright, get me a stretcher."
The pain in Virdon's hip had dulled thanks to the drug his friends had made him drink again and again; now it just felt as if someone had inserted a hot poker into his bone and was pushing it deeper with all their might. No... it felt as if someone had taken a pair of gigantic barbecue tongs and was squeezing his bone, and the pressure was mounting, and mounting... no, it was as if he had touched a live wire, electric shocks tingling down his leg, except for the parts where he didn't feel his leg at all.
It was a bad pain, Virdon knew - not because of its intensity, but because both the tingling and the numbness told him that the bullet was sitting close to a nerve, if it hadn't even damaged it. Despite this realization, he felt strangely distant to the situation; only occasionally, he was gripped by a wave of acute panic, when the reality of what had happened hit him.
He had been shot! Not that he hadn't been in situations before where being killed was a real possibility, but here, there were no extraction points, no air support, no home base. Here, they had no backup, no one to turn to for help. If one of them was captured, or injured, all bets were off. They had escaped Urko and his troops longer than realistically possible; Virdon didn't really believe their streak of luck would hold for another daring escape.
He tried to focus on something else but the changing chords of pain in his side by turning his attention to the jolts from the cart and the sounds drifting in from outside, but the movement was too monotonous, and the sounds were mostly water birds and the humming of mosquitos. He was too exhausted to open his eyes, but the sight of the tarpaulin overhead wouldn't have been sufficient to distract him, anyway.
The tarpaulin was torn back all of a sudden and Virdon flinched as cool night air hit him unexpectedly. Night air... he had to have dozed off. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth, and his head felt wooly and somehow... floating. Voices were drifting in from outside the cart, Galen's... and an unknown voice. Female. Then Burke's, shouting for someone to wait.
More murmurs, then the floor was swaying as someone jumped on the cart. "We're gonna move you inside now, Al," he heard Burke's voice.
Virdon didn't think he could make the distance - he was chilly and tired, and his leg was at once numb and throbbing, as if he had a really bad case of sciatica. "I feel pretty out of it," he murmured, "must be something in that tea... like morphine..."
"Nah, it's just chamomille." Burke's voice was flat. "You don't have to do anything, my friend Travin here has brought his stretcher along. We'll just lift you up an' over, and then you'll get a ride like you're the queen of England."
The dizziness intensified when they lifted him out of the cart and started moving; Virdon grabbed the wooden frame of the stretcher and held on for dear life. The sensation in his head was odd, as if he was falling, and falling again, without ever hitting the ground. The cold air had crawled under his shirt, and he was shivering uncontrollably. The only warm spot was the wound in his side, sending out waves of hot pain in concentric circles.
Burke and that other human - Travis? - carried him inside a building... a hovel, really; no use being polite about it. It was dark, and stuffy, and cramped, with too many humans who were about to sit down on long tables for their evening meal. Virdon hoped that this was just something like a mess hall, but that hope died when Travis lowered the stretcher beside a straw pallet and forced Burke to do the same if he didn't want him to tumble off it. Apparently, the slaves were eating and sleeping here - all together.
Burke wasn't happy about the other man's decision. "Wait a sec, buddy. My friend needs his own room."
"All humans sleep here," Travis said and turned to go.
Burke quickly stepped around the stretcher and blocked his way. "You wanna tell me you sleep here?" He waved at the straw pallets lining the walls.
Travis hesitated; something in Burke's face, or voice, made him step back a bit. "I have my own room," he admitted.
"Swell. That's where we'll take him then. He's sick, he needs special care." Burke gestured at him to take up his place at the stretcher again.
Travis didn't move. "We don't provide special care for sick humans. If a man is sick, he rests. If he lives, he returns to work." It was said without inflection; Travis just stated the facts. Virdon closed his eyes.
This is what we've come to. Even cattle were treated better back home.
When he opened his eyes again, Burke's face had that carefully blank expression that warned Virdon that his friend was about to do something violent. "That's a very progressive system," Burke said in a voice that matched his expressionless face, "but it doesn't apply to us."
"It applies to everyone."
Travis didn't know Burke, didn't know the signs... Virdon tried to sit up, but only managed to roll on his side. "Pete..."
Burke ignored him. He took a step towards Travis, his hands still relaxed at his sides, but Virdon knew that he was relaxing them consciously, that he was very aware of them now, and that he was controlling his breathing so that he wouldn't snap and- "We belong to Dr. Kova - and he gets very nervous when his servants get pushed around. So whatever passes for the luxury accommodations around here, that's where my friend goes."
"We shouldn't cause trouble." Virdon managed to come up into a sitting position.
Burke gently pushed him back down with his foot, his eyes never leaving Travis' face. "Not a problem, Al; Travin here wouldn't dream of disagreeing with Dr. Kova's orders."
Ah. Travin. He'd heard the name wrong. Virdon doubted that it would make a difference; Pete had challenged what little authority the man had around here, and that wouldn't go over well.
Burke nodded towards the front end of the stretcher, and Travin bent down and grabbed the handles without another word. They carried him into a small room with a tiny, cross-barred window that reminded Virdon too much of his time in Aken's cell, and helped him lie down on Travin's cot. The man immediately turned to go; Burke called him back. "You'll have someone bring new bedsheets and something to eat."
Travin nodded, his face betraying his anger. "I'll bring food." Then he pointed at Burke. "You will eat with the other humans. Now."
Burke's eyes narrowed. "Sure. I'll be with you in a sec." He waited until the man had left the room, then turned to Virdon. "I'll check back on you later. Need to get rid of the cart, an' eat something myself. Take it easy, okay? They'll get you on the table first thing in the morning, and then we're out of here." He patted Virdon's shoulder and rose.
"Wait." There was something he needed to tell him... in case they didn't put him on the table first thing in the morning, or in case he didn't wake up anymore on that table. "I need to tell you something..."
Burke's eyes were dark with worry, but he didn't sit down again. "Whatever it is, you can tell me later. You stay put, Al, I won't take long." He ducked out of the door.
Virdon grabbed the data disc that he was still wearing like a pendant around his neck. He needed to tell Pete... He needed to know...
His eyes drooped shut. He had to remember to tell him... it was important...
When Burke returned to the clinic, darkness had already settled around the buildings; he had driven the cart as far away from the clinic as he had dared, fully prepared to jump off and vanish into the marshes at the faintest sound of hoofbeats from a patrol. Humans were not allowed to roam the streets after sunset without explicit - and written - permission from their masters. It had been impossible to go back to the point where the cart had changed owners, but by now, the driver would have managed to rub through his fetters; he had even told him how to use the rock he had wrapped into the ropes.
If the man didn't manage to free himself, it could take a while before he was found. But this world let only the fittest survive; Burke told himself that he was simply adapting to it.
Anyway, he couldn't go back and look after the guy. He had Al to look after, and some things took precedence.
The barred windows of the humans' hut were still alight; Burke hesitated for a moment before he entered. The whole thing reminded him too much of a prison... or a cage; he suspected that the door was usually locked earlier in the evening. They had been waiting for him, probably on request of "Dr. Kova."
To his surprise, there were still people at the tables, hunched over their evening meals. They seemed to be eating - and sleeping - in shifts. Too many animals in a too small stable; not exactly good husbandry, but as long as the facade was immaculate... and nobody would care about the living conditions of the humans in the backyard anyway. He sat down on the only free seat he could find, which happened to be the one right beside Travin. Burke bet that wasn't a coincidence.
He glanced around while he was eating, mostly to distract himself from what he was eating. Nobody spoke, nobody looked up from their meal; people looked exhausted, mostly, but they didn't seem to be malnourished or mistreated. At least he couldn't see any marks of abuse on any of them.
But then he had learned that you couldn't always see the marks.
Burke decided to break up their routine a bit. It made no sense not to have a bit of dinner conversation, right, there were no apes around they could disturb with it. "This is terrific. What is it, boiled mule hooves?"
A few glances were flicked his way, but nobody answered. Apparently there was some rule against dinner conversation. Burke turned to Travin. "You wouldn't happen to have some sauce for a taste-killer?"
Travin didn't look up from his bowl. "We have what we have."
Burke pushed his own bowl away. "Yeah, you have the content of the apes' trash dump. I'm not gonna eat that shit, and neither is my friend."
Travin still didn't deign to look at him. "Then you'll sleep hungry."
Burke caught some movement from the corner of his eye and turned to see a girl coming up to their table; she was setting a slice of bread down before each man. "Nah, I don't think so. This looks like bread, although I still have to verify that theory. Thanks, princess." He smiled up to the girl, who avoided his eyes. She moved to put down another slice of bread before Travin.
He wasn't going to let her off that easily; she might be thin and rather plain, and seemed to wish to be somewhere else, a sentiment he could fully empathize with. But her mere presence also seemed to piss off Travin, which was reason enough to keep her around a few moments longer. "What's your name? In case I need to call you back for seconds?"
"Don't talk to her!" Travin snapped.
So he had been right - the old fart was pissed off. Now this was interesting. Burke narrowed his eyes. "I just asked her name-"
"She has no name!"
Burke leaned back in his seat and thoughtfully tapped his bread against the rim of the bowl. It made a hollow sound; too hard to chew on without dunking it into that terrible stuff first. "Everyone has a name."
Travin turned back to his meal. "Her name has been taken from her. She is no one."
Some sick shit was going on here. Burke chewed the inside of his lip and flicked a glance towards the girl who looked as if she'd start crying any moment; but she just turned away and resumed her walk down the table. "What did she do, criticize the chef?"
Travin just pushed back from the table and stomped into the shadows; that evening hadn't gone after his taste, what with Burke kicking him out of his bedchamber and now dragging this weird piece of tribal drama out into the light. Burke sniffed and tried to take a bite from the bread. With my natural charm and asshole detector, I'm really good at instantly finding new friends.
"She's his daughter." One of the men raised his head to meet his eyes for a moment. "Better not to anger him with that again."
So not tribal drama, family drama. Yeah, giving each other a hard time was what family was there for. "So she did criticize the chef?"
The other man shrugged and returned to his meal. Burke tucked the bread under his vest and rose. No matter what Travin thought he could decree for the humans under his heel, Burke wasn't going to sleep with the rest of them. He'd sleep in Al's room, on the floor, if necessary, but he wouldn't let the old man lie there alone. He didn't trust any of these people as far as he could throw them.
And he trusted Travin least of them all.
The quarters they were led to were usually reserved for visiting colleagues; of course, a visiting doctor was exactly what Galen was currently pretending to be, Zana reminded herself. The suite consisted of a small room with a bed and a desk, and even a little stove for making tea, and an adjacent bathroom; Zana was looking forward to thoroughly brushing her fur, and to giving their clothes to one of the humans for cleaning. Galen was looking forward to something else, judging by the looks he gave her, but Zana found that she wasn't in the mood. Something else was occupying her mind.
"Your 'old friend' wasn't exactly eager to help Alan," she remarked as she set down her backpack and crouched down to open it. She had a second robe in there - rumpled and not exactly clean, either, but in better condition than what she was wearing; she planned to give her travel clothes to whichever human would bring their food up to their room. "I had expected that she'd at least examine him, and, I don't know, give him some medicine for the pain? If we didn't have Ango's tea, Alan would lie in those humans' quarters the same way he was as when he was shot." She felt her irritation grow with every word.
Galen had filled the kettle and was now fiddling with the stove. "Kira has nothing against humans," he said. "It has more to do with my presence, I'm afraid. I'm... bad memories."
"A good doctor shouldn't let their treatment of a patient be influenced by their personal feelings," Zana growled.
"Kira is a good doctor," Galen insisted. "But she's only simian, too. You can't separate your professional life from all the rest. I'm sure she will tend to Alan first thing in the morning."
There would be lots of patients coming to Kira's consultation in the morning, Zana knew; she'd bet that Alan would slip down and further down on her list of priority patients... if he had ever made it on that list in the first place. An ape always had precedence before a human, no matter how badly the human was injured. She clenched her fists in helpless frustration. "What exactly did you do to her that she is now taking out her resentment on your human?"
"She's not taking out-" Galen heaved a deep sigh and began to take off his clothes to add them to Zana's pile on the floor. He sat down on the bed. "Kira and I were engaged once."
"Yes, I had gathered that much from our dinner conversation at your parents'," Zana said dryly, and Galen winced. It was a memory neither of them would ever forget - if the whole drama with the humans hadn't happened the very next day, Zana wasn't sure if she would have returned to him. In a way, Galen owed his relationship with her to the humans; the least he could do was to make sure that Alan didn't have to suffer for another relationship he had apparently blown. "So what happened? She didn't agree with your father, either?"
"Nobody agrees with my father if he puts his mind to it," Galen muttered. "It's his way of testing people, but most people take it personally."
"Maybe that's because he goes out of his way to make it personal. She broke up with you." It wasn't a question.
Galen nodded. "She didn't say it outright, she just stopped having time for anything except studying. She studied very hard that semester. And then she managed to get an internship at this clinic - it really is the best clinic in the city! - and she was very taken with her mentor, Leander... I suppose we will meet him tomorrow some time. It can't be avoided." He sighed again. "I need to convince this man that I'm a real doctor!" He buried his head in his hands. "I must be out of my mind!"
"I thought you did study medicine?" Zana took the kettle that Galen had forgotten over his misery from the fire, and began to scoop tea leaves into the teapot. "So you're a country doctor. You don't have to know as much as he does, otherwise you wouldn't have a reason to come here for help in the first place." She turned towards him. "But when you meet him, do make it urgent. He's her superior, maybe he can put pressure on her to take care of Alan. Otherwise, I'll do it!"
Galen raised his head from his hands. "Oh I, I wouldn't do that. Kira doesn't react well to people who aggravate her."
The spoon clattered on the stove. "Sweet Mothers, Galen! Not this tune again! I hated it when you played it at your parents', and it's just as inacceptable now! This is Alan's life we're talking about! You can't be silent and wait for your old flame to come around and remember what being a doctor means!"
"And you can't always bully people into doing your bidding!" Galen snapped. "Not everyone will try to placate you and bow to your demands! Kira will do the exact opposite of what you want her to do if she thinks you're overstepping your bounds, and that will be bad for Alan, I assure you!"
"Then we wouldn't be worse off than we are now, because in case you hadn't noticed, she is already doing nothing!"
They both snapped their mouths shut when a soft knock sounded at their door. A timid human brought them some steamed vegetables and took their clothes pile with her. Zana filled up the teapot with the boiling water, careful not to spill the scalding fluid despite the rage that was rattling her arms. A tense silence had descended on them; when they sat down - Zana at the desk, Galen on the edge of the bed, bowl in hand - Zana's appetite had vanished. She watched Galen poke his food; at least his mood had been spoiled, too. She didn't feel very graceful at the moment; it was only right that he suffered alongside with her.
She had to get through to him. Even if he and Kira had a bad history together, it was still a connection, something she didn't have with the surgeon. For Alan's sake, she'd stay in the background and let Galen try to deal with his volatile ex. She poured herself a cup of tea, inhaling the aromatic steam in a desperate attempt to calm down sufficiently to be able to continue this conversation without shouting. "I know you're trying to be diplomatic here, Galen, but... it's not a strategy that works with everyone. It didn't work with your father, you have to admit that."
Galen didn't answer, and Zana began to wonder about her last statement. Maybe if you were in an inferior position, being meek and compliant was your only way to survive childhood.
But they weren't children anymore. And a life was depending on their ability to move beyond their childhood ghosts. "There are things that are not negotiable. Alan's life is one of those things. You need to learn to stand up for the things that are important to you, Galen, and I advise you to learn it quickly - because I won't wait around for Alan to fade away while you're pretending to be diplomatic."
Galen's head jerked up. "What is that supposed to mean, 'pretending to be diplomatic'?"
Zana met his stare with a level gaze. "You know perfectly well what I mean. If you don't talk to Kira tomorrow morning, and if she doesn't begin to treat Alan in the afternoon at the latest, I will have a talk with her, no matter what you think about that."
Galen rose. "Well, I think you're right, it's time I learn some things - for example, not to let myself be blackmailed by an ultimatum." Zana watched silently as he strode to the door; but true to his nature, he closed it softly.
She sighed deeply and blew on her tea. Let him walk off his anger - he'd mull over her words anyway, maybe they would do some good. Zana eyed the bed; she was no longer hungry after their debate, but crawling under the sheets was looking more attractive by the moment. As it was now, she'd probably sleep alone, or would be fast asleep by the time he came back.
What an irony - their first opportunity to be together in private, and she was glad they wouldn't use it... But she knew perfectly well that sooner or later, Galen would have to notice her growing belly.
Not tonight, though. Right now, saving Alan was more important. She wondered how many crises they'd have to weather until her condition became the crisis of the day.
And if she then wouldn't wish for Galen's mellow mood.
"It's too dangerous. And it's not really necessary." Kira was sitting behind her desk, tapping a pencil against a report in front of her. The message was clear: I need to finish this, and I really don't have time to chat with you now. Or ever.
Galen skillfully ignored her signals and sat down on the chair where right now, a mother with her two months old daughter should be sitting; from what he had overheard in the corridor, the baby had a hernia that Kira wanted to examine. As far as Galen could tell, the child's state wasn't life-threatening, so he wasn't overly concerned. "When I looked after him this morning, he was warmer than usual and not really responsive; he might be developing a fever... which means the wound got infected." It was a common complication with gunshots, Galen knew - the bullets pushed other materials into the wound, like pieces of the victim's clothing, that began to fester deep inside the flesh, while the bullet clogged the wound channel like a cork. "The bullet is still lodged in his hip."
Kira threw her pen down with a huff. "So we treat the infection. The bullet isn't really the problem - unless I start poking it, and get it moving again. There are big blood vessels in that region, Galen, and big and important nerves, and going in blindly will most probably do more harm than good."
Galen shook his head. "I don't understand why you'd be going in blind - apes and humans aren't that different, anatomically."
Kira raised her brows. "How do you know? The veterinarians don't do surgery on humans; these creatures breed faster than rabbits, so there's always another one available if yours gets injured. Granted, with the latest trend of keeping humans as pets, that may change in the future, but right now, I only know what an ape looks like in there. Even small variations can make a big difference; probably a fatal one. Do you really want to risk that?"
"You sound very concerned, considering you haven't even examined my human yet," Galen said, keeping his voice calm.
It didn't fool Kira. She narrowed her eyes. "I have your report, Dr. Kova, and I had a good look at your human yesterday-"
"A good look? You glanced at him in fading light, made even worse by the tarpaulin of the cart! You didn't even bother to climb into that cart to check on his temperature, or his conjunctivae. Come on, Kira, don't treat me like a fool!" Galen heard the annoyance in his voice, but he couldn't help it. It was just too much. "You're taking out your resentment of me on him!"
"I don't resent you." She began to shuffle around the papers on her desk.
"I can't blame you for it. We didn't part on good terms."
"No, we didn't."
There was a pause, while she stared at her hands that she had folded on her report. Then she looked up to meet his eyes. "But I'm not taking out my... This is my professional opinion about your human, Galen. I'm a surgeon - I'm not a butcher who goes blundering in with a knife just to see what will happen. And to operate in ignorance is butchery." She tiredly rubbed her face. "From what you told me about the numb spots on his leg, we know the bullet is lying close to a nerve. Dangerously close. If I damage the nerve, that leg would be permanently paralyzed. You'd have a one-legged human. What good would he be? If you let the wound heal on its own, you may have a limping human, but you could still work him. The body has ways to deal with foreign material - it encloses it with a kind of rubbery tissue and neutralizes it."
It sounded reasonable. Zana wouldn't like it, though. Neither would Peet. And there were other considerations... "How long would that take?"
Kira let her hand drop on the desk with a thud. "Several weeks at the very least. And no, you can't stay here that long. For one thing, you wouldn't be able to keep up your charade in front of Leander..."
As if on cue, the door opened, and a tall, broad Chimpanzee ambled in as if he owned the office. Since Leander was the director of the clinic, that was even true. Galen rose and bowed respectfully. "Director Leander. So pleased to meet you."
"As am I." The voice was deep and smooth, as carefully groomed as the man's shiny fur that framed his head like a lion's mane. "Kira assured me you were an old friend."
"We, ah, we know each other from university." Galen smiled up at the taller ape and consciously kept his hands motionless at his sides. "Although only one of us went to change the world of medicine. I am a great admirer of her accomplishments."
Leander glanced at Kira with a smile that spoke of a mentor's pride in his student... or a stable owner's pride in his best horse, Galen corrected himself after a moment. "She is our biggest asset. I wouldn't know how to run this clinic without her. - I thought you were scheduled to give a lecture to the staff this morning, Kira." Galen thought he could detect a hint of steel in the honeyed voice.
"I postponed it till tomorrow." Kira's voice had a slight tremor, betraying her nervousness. Galen hoped that Leander couldn't hear it, too. "I wanted to show Dr. Kova our facilities."
"Ah." The lion's gaze returned to Galen. "And what is your impression so far, Dr. Kova?"
Galen took a deep, measured breath. I'm just a humble country doctor. I'm completely overwhelmed by this big, vain man's property. "Fantastic!" he blurted out. "Certainly far beyond anything I've seen. But then I'm just a little country doctor, I can only humbly watch and learn."
And suddenly, it was as if he was slipping into someone else's skin - just like it had felt back in the City, when he had become the owner of 'Orva's Delights,' seller of fruit mixes and a special sauce. Foreign thoughts lit up in his mind, and he felt another man's emotions descend on him - stubborn pride, and a determination to hold his own as a member of the same venerable profession. Damn him, who does he think he is? I'm a doctor, too!
He was faintly aware that he was, in fact, not 'a doctor, too!' but by now, he was in the firm grip of his role; a strange cockiness rose up in him. "Of course, I'm not sure I would agree with all your procedures."
Kira sank into her chair again, her face a carefully blank mask. Leander jerked up his head a little, peering down on him along his nose. "Oh? And what quarrel do you have with our procedures, doctor?"
I haven't the faintest idea.
But now he had to barrel on, ride the wave of that other consciousness and see where it took him. "I don't wish to cause any offense..." he stalled.
But Leander wouldn't let him off the hook now. "Come, come, Doctor," he said with a slight smile that reminded Galen more than ever of that of a big cat, "I'd be glad to hear your learned opinions. Wouldn't you, Kira?"
"Yes," Kira said weakly, "yes of course I would. Dr. Kova is... very opinionated."
Galen drew himself up to his full height - which still fell short of Leander's. Let's see who of us can be the bigger pompous ass. "As I see it, there's altogether too much emphasis these days on surgery, for everything from a broken leg to the vapors. While surgery is necessary in some cases, I myself prefer a more conservative approach." Mothers forbid that Leander got it in his head to invite him to operate on some poor, unsuspecting ape waiting in his corridors! Better to curb that thought before it even occurred to him.
Leander scoffed. "You mean a potion for every ailment?"
"And/or leeches," Galen deadpanned.
"I see." Leander's face was inscrutable.
Galen couldn't resist the urge to carry the joke farther. "Except colds, of course. I send those poor bastards to the priests. Some things are above the powers of medicine."
Leander stared at him. At her desk, Kira covered her eyes with one hand.
Then Leander exploded with laughter. "I like your visitor, Kira. I hope you'll do your best to keep him here!"
"And I look forward to working with you, Doctor," Galen heard himself say in the same pompous tone. Leander just shook his head, still chuckling, and left, to give that lecture to the staff that Kira should have been giving.
Kira jumped to her feet as soon as the door had closed behind him. "'I look forward to working with you'!" she hissed. "Do you think he's a fool? This whole thing is impossible, this crazy imposture... you need to leave immediately, do you understand?"
"I can't!" Galen hissed back. "Alan can't walk, and he's feverish! You need to treat at least the infection!" And then they would have to figure out a means of transport. Probably steal another cart, but a horse-drawn one this time, which meant they'd have to rob an ape...
"I have a waiting room full of patients I need to attend to first, and I have surgery scheduled for the afternoon," Kira snapped. She started pacing behind her desk, her hands pushed deep into the pockets of her lab coat.
"Then at least look after him this evening, after you have cared for all those terribly wounded apes."
Kira sent him an annoyed look. "Many of them are gravely ill. I don't schedule a surgery to relieve my boredom. Fine, I'll look after him later. In the meantime, try to avoid Leander. I don't want to imagine what will happen if he drags you into an operating room."
"Believe me, neither do I," Galen said, relieved. "Thank you, Kira."
She waved his gratitude away. "I'm acting out of mere self-preservation.
"The sooner you are gone, the better."