The street was deserted, just some discarded flyers flapping at the wall of the building he was crouching against. He'd be late to school again, but this was dangerous terrain, and if they got him this time... he tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. Last time, the big kid had missed his heart by an inch. Next time, he'd aim better.

He wandered down the lonely country road, wondering where Al and the apes were - had he been scouting ahead, or was he trying to catch up? He couldn't remember, and so he couldn't decide if he should slow down or hurry up, and the only thing he knew was that someone was looking for him, and he should find somewhere to hide, maybe an abandoned building, or a subway entrance - no, not a tunnel, not down there...

His heart froze, then stumbled on as he found himself on the table, that table, and now he was aware that he was dreaming, again, but this time, he was looking up at the ceiling, so maybe it wouldn't be that dream again, maybe, but he very much wanted to wake up now, please...

Apes were there, but he couldn't see them, it was too dark, they were talking about him, laughing, planning something, something bad, he knew it with the certainty of the dreamer, and although he couldn't make out the words, the sounds filled him with dread. They were malicious, gleeful, excited...

Urko! Panic flooded him, setting his heart racing and tugging at his limbs, but he was bound to the table, and he couldn't move, and Urko was there, and he had his ANSA knife, Last time I missed you by an inch, Pete, but today, you're not going to run.

The tip of the knife gleamed in the darkness, he could see it perfectly as it descended on him, Urko would plunge it through his eye and into his brain, he'd cut out the parts that made him think, and dream, and speak-

Burke jerked awake with a guttural groan, limbs still frozen under the cover. The fabric clung to his sweat-drenched chest, and his neck was itching where wet strands of hair coiled against the skin-

No, his neck was itching because there was an ape standing at his bed-

A cold pain slid into his right arm like a snake's fang, and Burke rolled away without thinking, yanking the thing from his vein with the movement.

A heavy hand fell on his neck and jerked him back, and for a second, Burke was frozen in Urko's grip like a kitten.

Not Urko, can't be Urko-

He rammed his elbow back and upward, and felt it connect with the ape's face. His attacker let out a choked yelp, and slammed him back into the mattress, face-down. Something heavy dropped on Burke's leg, and panic slammed through him, Urko had his knife, his ANSA knife-

Knife. Under his pillow.

His hand closed around the hilt, just as the pain slid into the back of his calf again, and a burning sensation entered his leg. He twisted in the ape's grip and rammed the knife into its shoulder. It met bone and slid off - he'd hit the shoulder blade, he hadn't been able to aim properly, but it was enough to make the ape yelp in pain, and stumble away from his bed.

Burke growled and jumped out of bed, but the sheet had tangled around his legs and brought him to his knees again. The burning sensation in his leg was melting deeper into his muscle, flooding his leg and groin with heat, and his racing heart picked up speed again, a clenching pain directly behind his breastbone. He stumbled to his feet, ready to bury his knife in that monkey's skull, but his attacker had bolted.

The room was swaying all around him, the shadows sharp and unnaturally close all of a sudden. Burke stumbled to the open door, determined to get that ape and finish it off, but a wave of nausea hit him and made him grip the doorframe to keep himself from breaking down. If the damn monkey came back, it would finish him off, not the other way round. Sweat was rolling down his back, and the pain in his chest was so intense now that Burke was sure he was having a heart attack.

Damn monkey poisoned me...

It was useless to call for help - the only ones who could hear him were the other racers, and they were all locked in. And he was in no shape to go outside and look for help - even if he didn't collapse after three steps, he'd be in no shape to fight if the ape was pouncing on him again.

Burke shut the door and leaned against it, trembling and sweating, the sound of his own breathing loud in his ears.

If the ape came back...

He weaved back to his bed and yanked at it. He felt drunk, the vertigo getting worse by the minute, and he was glad to have a bedpost to hold on to. He just hoped he wouldn't fall unconscious before he was done.

He managed to push the cot against the door, blocking anyone from entering. It would be a problem for the stewards if he did die tonight, but at least he'd preserve the crime scene. Whatever the ape had done to him, they had dropped the thing, and it was still here, somewhere.

His heart was trying to break through his chest, and his clothes were drenched with sweat. He badly wanted to piss, but he wasn't sure he'd find the bucket in his state. Burke gingerly crawled back into bed; maybe his heart rate would come down if he didn't move.

Maybe he'd die in here. To his surprise, Burke found that the thought didn't bother him.

At least the dreams would end, then.

"Tomorrow is the big race." Zana stared out of the window, ignoring her tea.

Virdon sat down at the table as a silent prompt for her to join him there. "I know."

"I bet Olman will grab Peet as soon as he crosses the finish line," Zana continued. She turned away from the window. "We should leave today, before... I didn't even think of asking Galen if he signed anything."

"If we run now, Olman will send his people after us," Virdon pointed out. He took a sip of his tea, fervently wishing for coffee.

"We've escaped Urko for so long now that this doesn't frighten me half as much as it should," Zana muttered, and finally crossed the room to sit down at the table.

"Maybe Galen could forge new papers for Pete," Virdon suggested. "Make you the sole owner, so that his deal is void."

"We let everyone believe that we're married, which means there is no separate ownership." Zana blew on her tea and stared at the wall behind Virdon, deep in thought. "It would be a bit suspicious to suddenly admit that we're not married at all. Olman is looking into our identities anyway..."

"But it would buy us time," Virdon pointed out.

"It would just pin us down here, while the court tries to decide who is right," Zana said darkly. "And then they'd probably decide in Olman's favor. He even has the prefect in his pocket..."

The door crashed open with a bang. Zana's eyes went wide. Virdon spun around in his seat, deeply alarmed.

A pudgy guard stood in the door, out of breath and glaring fiercely at Zana, as if he was holding her responsible for his state. "Rogan needs you at the tracks. Now."

Zana had already jumped to her feet. "What's... Peet!"

"Your human went crazy, you better calm it down before the constable has to put it down," the guard growled, and turned away.

Virdon jumped to his feet, too, toppling his chair. "I'm coming with you!" The sudden movement sent a flare of pain through his hip, and he had to grab the edge of the table for support.

Zana flicked him a worried glance. "I'm all for it, Ala... Nait, but I'll go ahead with officer... uhm, Junior. You catch up with us there." With that, she was out of the door. Virdon could hear her quick steps down the stairs, as she hurried after the officer.

Damn that leg! He pushed away from the table and limped after them.

It felt like an eternity before he could see the white building of the racing club; his leg had decided to choose this morning to act up, and for the first time in weeks, Virdon had wished for his crutch. He was hot and sweaty, despite the overcast sky and the cool gusts of wind that were tearing at his vest and flapping the banners for the Three Valleys Racing Competition high above him.

The racers were out on the tracks like every morning, and at first glance, everyone was keeping to their usual routine - trainers shouting at the humans, clockers timing the workouts, grooms bustling between the kennels, and from the canteen, Virdon could hear the clatter of earthen mugs and bowls.

It was when he turned into the main alley of the kennel section that he saw the first signs of disturbance: hushed murmurs, grooms clustered in groups, staring down the alley to where the guards had fenced off a kennel... Burke's cabin. The door was wide open, but Virdon couldn't see inside without crossing the tape.

Burke wasn't there, which could be a good sign or a bad sign. A groom pointed Virdon to a building at the end of the main alley that cut through the kennel area.

He knew that something was gravely wrong the moment he stepped through the door. Burke was still nowhere to be seen, but Virdon could feel the tension crackling in the room, could see it in the apes' stance as they turned to face him - Zana, and a young guard; Virdon recognized him as the constable who had witnessed Burke's earlier outburst, when his friend had learned that he wouldn't get his share of the prize money for that first race.

"He's in there," Zana said without preamble. She gestured to the door behind her. "I thought it better to wait for you, you're his friend... and a human."

Virdon stepped past her and peered through the tiny window in the door blade. It only showed a small section of the room, and he couldn't see or hear Burke.

He turned away from the window. "What happened?"

Zana shrugged helplessly and gestured to the guard. He was holding a hand to his face, and Virdon saw that he was pressing a bloodied piece of cloth against his cheekbone.

"Someone attacked it... him, last night," the constable said, after an inquisitive glance at Zana. "Your friend was able to fight off the attacker, and blocked the door from the inside. When the grooms couldn't open it today, and took it off its hinges, they found him unconscious; then they called us." He paused and peeled the cloth from his face to frown at it; Virdon saw that he had a deep gash in his cheek, probably from a knife.

Virdon drew a cautious breath and tried not to show his alarm. A human attacking an ape forfeited his life; did they expect him to coax Pete out of that room, so they could make an example of him?

"I had him brought here for questioning after the veterinarian had examined him," the guard continued, and Virdon shared a look of understanding and dread with Zana. A confined space, an ape at the other side of the table... it must've stirred dark memories in Burke.

"And he suddenly flipped," the ape concluded. "To be honest, the only reason he's still alive is because I figured he's still under the influence. He can't help himself."

Virdon looked to Zana, confused. "Under the influence...?"

"Dehni had been injected with Blaze... maybe even adulterated Blaze ," Zana said. "Because he fought off the attacker, they hadn't been able to inject him with the full dosis, but it did affect him quite a bit." Her eyes told him that she knew what had really set Burke off, but went with the officer's theory, and Virdon silently agreed with her about it.

"I'll talk to him."

"He has a knife," the guard said. "I don't want to know where he got it from, but see to it that he doesn't have it anymore when he leaves that room, and I'll forget about its existence."

Virdon nodded wordlessly; that was by far more generous that he'd have expected from any ape save Zana. He wondered fleetingly what she had said or done to placate the officer, but the thought dropped from his mind as soon as he pushed down the door handle.

"Pete? It's me." He had said it quietly, hoping the guard behind him wouldn't catch him using Burke's real name; his friend wouldn't react to 'Danny' now. "I'm coming in. I'm alone - don't come at me with that knife, okay?"

No answer. Virdon slowly pushed the door open a bit, and squeezed through.

Burke was waiting to his right, outside the field of vision that the tiny window had provided. He was standing one foot away from the wall, leaving room to maneuver, and with his weight equally balanced on both feet, looking deceptively relaxed. Only his tight grip on his ANSA knife betrayed his state of mind.

That, and the thousand mile stare. Virdon wondered if Burke recognized him at all right now.

He let his gaze wander over the toppled chairs and skewed table, and decided that sitting down there was the worst thing he could do in this situation. With a last glance at Burke, he slowly limped to the table and just leaned against it. "I'm unarmed, Pete - there's no need to push that knife in my face." He turned up his palms for good measure.

He saw Burke moisten his lips, and jerk a glance towards the door, where, as they both knew perfectly well, the apes were waiting, and probably listening in. "They sent you to put me to the mat?"

"Zana is worried about how you're doing, Pete," Virdon said mildly. "As am I."

Burke huffed, and shifted on his feet, but his eyes never left Virdon's face, and the knife didn't waver. "'m doin' fine. It's like a fucking holiday."

"You attacked a police officer," Virdon pointed out.

Burke frowned at him. "No, I didn't."

Maybe he really didn't remember it. PTSD and drugs were a potent mix. Virdon nodded at Burke's hand. "Then why are you holding a knife in your hand?"

Burke stared at him, lips twitching. "I jus'... I like the feel. It's a fine piece of work."

"Quality work," Virdon smiled. "But I'd like to talk to you, and I'd prefer you to put it away for that conversation."

Burke's gaze jerked to the door, back to Virdon, back to the door.

"Nobody will come through that door, Pete," Virdon said. "It's just you and me now."

Burke drew a heavy breath, then another; then he hid the knife under his shirt, and leaned against the wall.

Virdon wasn't fooled; Burke's body hummed with tension. "What happened last night?"

Burke shrugged. "Some damn monkey tried to off me with Blaze, I chased them off, barricaded the door. End of story. Nothing happened, I'm fine, I'm missing my morning workout for the big race... that's tomorrow, in case you've forgotten."

"I don't give a damn about that race," Virdon said. "Could you see who attacked you?"

"It was the middle of the fucking night, Al," Burke growled. "An' they don't outfit our cages with lamps."

"It's a good thing you managed to fight them off despite that... Until now, they succeeded with every assault on a human." Virdon paused for a moment. "You should've listened to Zana when she told you to stay at the inn-"

"No."

The rejection was swift and decisive, and Virdon frowned. "What's going on between the two of you?"

"Nothing. Look, Al, I appreciate your concern, but can I go back to training now? 'Cause that's the whole point of why we're still here, an'..."

"Sure." It was no use trying to talk to Burke now, in here, while he was so upset. Virdon pushed away from the table. "I just need you to give me the knife..."

"Can't do." Burke melted into the wall, his face shuttered. "That knife saved my life last night. I need it."

"Pete..."

Burke took a step away from him. Giving himself space. "I'm warning you, Al..."

"No, I'm warning you, Major - I won't tolerate your insubordination." Virdon wasn't sure if falling back to the old hierarchy would shake Burke out of his trance, but he had to try. "We're outnumbered here, and the apes won't let you go through this door while armed. You can surrender that weapon to them... or to me."

"They won't let you keep it, either," Burke said hoarsely. "We're subhu... subapes. Whatever. I'm not giving it up to a monkey again."

"What about Zana?" Virdon suggested. "She could... safeguard it for you, for a little while."

Burke faltered a bit at that. It struck Virdon all of a sudden how tired the younger man looked. Burke had been suffering from insomnia even back on the Icarus; it had gotten better while they had lived with the tribe of mutated humans, even though his sleep had stayed light.

But since his capture by Urko, Burke had been haunted by nightmares, and although he tried to keep the problem to himself, they were living at too close quarters for Virdon not to notice.

He had kept his distance, figuring that Burke would break the subject when he felt ready to. But now it looked as if the subject was breaking him instead. Virdon bent down, put a toppled chair on its feet, and sat, glad to rest his leg a bit. "What's eating at you, Pete?"

Burke eyed him warily. "Dunno what you're talking about."

Virdon just looked at him.

Burke raked a hand through his hair and averted his gaze. "I've been attacked by a big-ass ape trying to kill me dead, okay? Excuse me if I'm a bit tense!"

"We both know this has been going on for longer than just last night," Virdon said. "Ever since you escaped Urko."

The silence in the room was suddenly solid, like a block of ice.

"I didn't escape," Burke muttered at last. "You busted me out. I was ready to call it a day."

"I know," Virdon said. "And I have the feeling that hasn't changed, and it worries me."

Burke gave him an annoyed, sidelong glance. "I'm not suicidal, Al."

"You're erratic," Virdon said flatly. "And you're plagued by nightmares. Do you have flashbacks, too? Moments where you're not here, but back there? Like just now, when you attacked that guard?"

Burke tilted his head back and studied the ceiling. "I didn't attack anyone..."

"So the table and the chairs fell over on their own? That officer sports a gash in his cheek that looks as if someone cut him with a knife."

Burke said nothing, just inhaled slowly, deeply.

"You really don't remember it," Virdon said quietly.

Burke shook his head.

"What do you remember?"

Burke frowned. "Going in. And then... you were there, talking."

Virdon rubbed his hand over his mouth. "You had a flashback in here, Pete, and you flipped. And that's dangerous, for you and for all of us."

He didn't know what kind of reaction he had expected from Burke, but his friend just stared at him with a face that betrayed no emotion - no surprise, no dread, no shame, nothing but exhaustion.

"I want to help you, Pete," Virdon tried again. "But that'll be doomed from the start, if you don't even admit that there's a problem-"

Burke laughed, a bitter huff. "Help me? How the hell do you wanna help me?"

"However I can." Virdon leaned forward in his seat. "You just have to let me. Just let me know... what I can do. What would help."

"Nothing helps, okay, Al?" Burke exploded. "Nothing helps. Bullet to the head, that'd help." He began to prowl the room like a caged tiger, hitting the wall with his fist at every turn.

"I'd like to try a less extreme solution, if you don't mind," Virdon said dryly.

"You're not gonna go all Freud on me, Al! What do you expect, that I'll show you where the bad ape touched me with this here doll? No fucking way!"

"I don't have an ape doll, so I guess we'll have to do without." Virdon couldn't help himself.

Burke didn't laugh. Virdon turned serious again.

"I know I'm not a therapist," he said. "But I'm the best option we have, under the circumstances. And aside from the danger that your out-of-control episodes pose for you and us - this just ain't no way to live, Pete. You're my friend; it pains me to see you suffer like that. At least... at least let us try. You can't give up just like that. That's not the Pete Burke I know."

Burke stopped an arm's length before the opposite wall with an exasperated moan. "Okay, fine, I'll tell you everything you wanna know, just not right now, okay? Let's, let's get this race behind me, and let's get out of this fucking shithole of a town, and then you can ask me anything."

"This isn't about satisfying my curiosity..."

"I don't give a damn about your motives, Al, but if you think that stirring up that shit is gonna help me with anything except giving me new material for my nightmares, you're fucking delusional. But I'm gonna do it so you're happy. Now for the love of your god, get me out of this box!"

Virdon rose from his chair. "I need your knife, Pete. I'll give it to Zana, and she'll give it back to you once we're out of the valley."

Burke closed his eyes and drew his lips through his teeth. "She's gotta keep it with her, she can't put it on a shelf or, or give it to Galen... or anyone."

Virdon nodded and held out his hand. "I'll make sure to tell her."

With a slow motion as if he was pushing his hand through jelly, Burke eased the knife out of its sheath and handed it to Virdon. After staring at it for a moment, he reached behind himself to unstrap the sheath, so that Zana wouldn't have to carry a blank blade.

Virdon took both with the exaggerated care of a man who had just made a holy vow. "Thank you."

Burke stared at the knife, as if he wasn't expecting to see it ever again and had to memorize its shape.

Then he lifted his gaze to Virdon's face. "I'm glad that you're happy, Colonel, an' all the apes, too," he said. "Let's just hope that ape-maniac won't come back tonight, 'cause now I've got nothing to chase 'em away with anymore."