They were ambling towards the humans' paddock, Zana at Olman's arm as if he was leading her to a ball. When Rogan had told her that Olman was the president of the local timber company, Zana had pictured a rugged self-made ape, a kind of uber-woodcutter in a flannel shirt, a giant axe tucked in his belt. Instead, Olman was the perfect gentleman, refined enough to fit in at any of the City's dinner parties. He was probably giving dinner parties himself, though Zana couldn't imagine who else he'd invite out here.
"As soon as they've cleaned up the humans, they'll lead them to the winner's circle for taking pictures," Olman explained. "The human, its owners, the trainer, and friends - a nice keepsake for you, and a nice decoration for my clubhouse."
Zana drew her lips into a tight smile. She didn't know if she wanted her photo in a place where random apes could see it, and recognize her and Galen - and Peet -, but she couldn't think of a reason to bow out of this ritual. I wonder if Galen had taken into account that we'll litter these valleys with wanted posters of our own making when he agreed to this racing enterprise, she thought wryly.
"It was one of your foremen who discovered Dehni's racing talent," she told Olman. "Apparently, everyone has two professions here, woodworker, and racing buff."
Olman chuckled. "Well, we're simple apes out here, with simple tastes. Honest work, a hearty meal, cider and keppa with one's friends at the pub, and spending the weekends with the family at the racetrack - that's our life. And it's a good way of life, even if it doesn't have the sort of sophisticated distractions that the big City offers."
"Well, I don't know about the City," Zana said offhandedly, not taking the bait. "I'd just never have dreamed of being the owner of a real, money-earning racing human myself one day."
"I'll be honest with you, lady," Olman leaned closer. "He won't run for long, he's too old. But I can give you the names of some good breeders, and then he can go on making money for you, and who knows, if you demand some of his offspring as mating fee, instead of the money, you can have them trained for the races." He winked at her. "Many a successful kennel has started that way."
Zana consciously held her emotions in check; she had to keep up appearances. "That would be too kind, sir," she murmured.
"I'm always on the lookout for new talent," Olman said. "Human racing is a passion of mine."
They had almost reached the paddock. Zana could see Alan there, doing something to Peet's face. If she wanted to ask Olman about Vilam, she had to act quickly now. "I heard you're planning to enlarge the stadium in Sapan," she said casually. "And to invite more kennels to the Three Valleys Derby."
"News travel fast, as always," Olman said, amused. "It's true, we'll rename it 'Five Valleys Derby', and one day, who knows, it'll be the 'Iron Mountains Derby'."
"They didn't really travel, though," Zana said, watching Alan. He made a sudden motion and Peet bowled over, holding his face with one hand, and swatting at Alan with the other. "I asked Vilam, and he told me he had a business meeting with you about the project, a quartermoon ago. I was a bit surprised, because I couldn't imagine what part a kennel owner would play in a construction project."
"You asked Vilam about the Five Valleys project?"
Zana turned her head to look into the ape's cunning eyes. "No," she admitted, "I asked him where he was the night Elapa Felga was murdered. And he told me he was with you."
"Elapa Felga, hm?" Olman stopped walking, and Zana stopped, too. Around them, the crowd parted and closed like water flowing around rocks in a riverbed.
"I thought they had already arrested her murderer." Olman cocked his head and regarded her with narrow eyes. "Are you a private investigator, like our dear, late Felga?"
Something in the way he said those last words made Zana's back stiffen. "Let's just say I have my doubts about the supposed murderer," she retorted. "As far as I can tell, a number of people had motive, means, and opportunity that night."
"Well, Vilam was in a business meeting with me during that night," Olman said. "Although I'm not going to tell you what it was about. I'm sure you understand that that would be bad business practice." He smiled politely. "You should go over to your human, before it hurts your husband. You've got quite the rogue there."
Zana spun around; in the paddock, Alan was pinning down a struggling Peet, while Galen was hanging on to a furious Marpo, barely keeping the ape from lunging at the grappling humans. Whatever had happened during the short moments of her conversation with Olman had escalated quickly and was about to escalate even further. She'd have to go over and break it up. Zana huffed with exasperation and turned back to Olman. "I'm so sorry..."
But Olman was gone; Zana's gaze wandered over the bustling chaos of apes getting refreshments, placing their bets, and crowding towards the paddock to watch the spectacle that her humans were currently performing for free.
Zana resisted the urge to tear at her fur and turned back towards the paddock.
If she absolutely had to have that winner's photo taken, she had to make sure none of the males acquired a black eye in the meantime.
"Shit! Goddamn, Al!" Burke swatted Virdon's hand away and bowled over, holding his throbbing nose. The damn racer had smashed his elbow into his face, and yeah, he liked his nose straight, but shit, it hurt more than it had a right to do.
He felt Virdon's hand quickly ruffle his hair. "All set, Danny. You're free to dazzle the girls with your pretty face again."
Belatedly, Burke remembered that Al was going by the name of Nate around here. But the apes wouldn't listen in to the choked cries of their animals, right? Fucking Marpo at least was letting the world know, at the top of his lungs, that it had been his training that had transformed that crude beast into a sleek winner, and Galen... eh, he didn't want to think about Galen right now. Which was difficult, as the ape was standing right next to him, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking smug. Probably counting the sembles in his head.
That reminded him... Burke let his hand drop from his face and glared at Galen. "We haven't talked about my money yet, boss." His voice was thick from his swollen sinuses; blood was still dripping on his chin.
That got Marpo's attention. "Your money? What in the white wastes are you talking about, boy?"
Burke ignored Virdon's warning hand on his shoulder. "I'm talking about my share of the prize money. I did the work, I gotta get paid," he continued, stubbornly ignoring Virdon's tightening grip, Galen's scowl, and Marpo's eyebrows that were wandering farther up his forehead and into his fur with every word.
"You..." Marpo laughed. "You have some funny ideas in your stupid head, boy! You run because we tell you to run, and you earn money for your owner - that's this mellow gentleman here - the kind ape who's feeding and clothing you, and is not selling you off to the iron mines in the western mountains."
Burke clenched his fists on his knees and looked at Galen. "Boss?" Fuck you, Galen, if you really think you can go all ape master on me, I'll...
"I really don't have to explain to you how the world works, Dehni," Galen muttered, and Burke's vision darkened all of a sudden, it was like looking through a tunnel you fucking monkey used me like a fucking horse like a tool
He didn't know if he had shouted those words, he didn't know if his hands had snatched a fistful of fabric, or fur, he couldn't even remember if he had lunged at the ape, the next thing he felt was Al's weight on him, and sand in his mouth, and Al's breath in his ear, and "Calm down, calm down, Pete, Pete!"
His blood in the sand, and Al pinning him to the ground, and somewhere above him, apes shouting, and Al talking to him, in a low voice, all the words running into each other, hadn't had the chance to talk to him yet, leave it to me, Pete, trust me, I'll take care of everything, okay, Pete? Are you with me, Pete, are you there? C'mon, calm down, this isn't the time or place to go ballistic...
Burke closed his eyes and laid his head on the ground, trying to relax his muscles. Virdon was still holding him in a death grip. "Leggo," Burke murmured. "I'm done. I'm done."
He felt Al waver for a moment, and then the weight pressing him into the ground was gone.
Burke stayed where he was, too disgusted to even open his eyes. He didn't want to see another fucking, filthy monkey for the rest of his life. Or hear one. Or have to deal with one. If he wasn't allowed to break that fucking monkey's neck, he'd just stay there in the sand... Let them figure out how to make their happy winner photo then.
"Is there a problem?"
Unknown voice. Sounding official. Sounding like trouble. Burke kept his eyes closed, and his limbs still.
"No, not at all, Constable." Galen's voice, sounding nervous. "We have everything under control."
You don't have shit under control, monkey. I'm following orders from the colonel, because he's the only person on this fucking planet who has a right to give orders to me.
"What is going on here?" Zana's voice, resolute, exasperated. Join me, missus, I'm fucking exasperated, too.
"Alta. I thought you disapproved of this blood sport?" Constable again, sounding... Burke opened his eyes, but didn't move a muscle. Was that ape coming on to Zana?
"I disapprove of a lot of things, Constable." Zana's voice was cool, but... Burke had flirted with too many girls to miss the undertone of amusement. No way. Zana? "That doesn't mean I run away from them." Her feet and the hem of her green robe came into view, and then she was crouching down by his face, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Dehni? What happened? Are you alright?"
They wouldn't let him lie here in peace, Burke realized. The quicker he got up, and had that damn photo made, the sooner he'd get out of here, and back to the inn, and to his cot in that tiny storage room he was sharing with Al. He rolled away from Zana and got on his feet. "Yeah. I'm alright." He flicked a glance to the assembled apes - one of them a guard, whose black uniform made the hairs rise on his arms - and added a belated, "Ma'am."
For a moment, nobody spoke. Then the guard - Constable - tapped his fist at his chest in a casual salute, smiled a dazzling smile at Zana, whose warm smile didn't match the polite dipping of her head, and said, "Well, you really seem to have it all under control. If you need me, I'll be around." The smile deepened and took on a new intensity. Burke raised his brow. And now he's going in for the kill.
"Call me anytime." With a casual nod and a "Sir" to Galen, Constable turned and sauntered off.
Galen stared after him with narrow eyes. "Who was that?"
That's the competition, buddy. Burke felt his mood lift, as he absently took the wet rag Virdon handed him.
"That is Constable Rogan," Zana said innocently. "He's leading the investigation of Felga's case."
"And is making eyes at you also part of that investigation?" Galen growled.
Burke wiped his face to hide his grin.
"Oh Faro," Zana said briskly, "don't be ridiculous."
"Don't you be smug," Galen snapped, "I know what I just saw!"
Marpo was suddenly in Burke's face, and snatched the rag from his hand. "I'll clean you up," he said, and closed his hand around Burke's arm in an iron grip. "It's bad manners to listen in to your masters when they're having a... conversation." He began to pull Burke to the far side of the paddock. "And you," he added over his shoulder towards Virdon, "the same goes for you! Drag your limping carcass over here, before I come and get you."
I'm gonna drop a tree on this asshole before I leave. Burke craned his neck to peer over Marpo's shoulder. Galen and Zana were still facing off at the fence. Zana didn't look amused anymore. Galen looked livid. Burke felt a warm rush of glee tingle in his chest. Serves you right - you pulled one over on me.
Now you know how that feels.