"And I can have another cake."
Zana kept her face carefully neutral as she slipped another slice of cream cake on Evon's plate. Halda's little boy was fiercely determined to get as much cake out of this day as possible, and Zana found it hard to remember that she was supposed to be the adult of their little troupe.
"This is the last one, Evon," she said, while he dug into his cake, "or you'll get sick. And then I'll get in trouble with your mother."
He didn't deign to answer that, but his sister put down her fork and shot Zana a worried look. "Are you sure that she won't be angry? She never allows us to eat sweets..."
Zana regarded Evon's cream-smeared face for a moment. "Don't worry, Iska - today is a special day, and I'll take responsibility for everything. What do you say if we go down to the market once your brother is finished with his cake, and see if we find something nice for you to take home? A bow tie, or a scarf..." She had no idea how long Halda's workday was at the shelter, but it was probably safe to say that they'd have to fill up some atsehts in town before going back to Halda's office would make sense.
Iska made a face. "I don't want a scarf. Mother has hundreds of them, I can take one of hers if I need one. She has them in every color."
"Well, fortunately they have more on offer than just scarves," Zana said, determined not to let the girl spoil her mood. Iska seemed to be in a constant state of worry; it was as if she believed that her mother was monitoring her from afar, like a disapproving shadow on her shoulder.
Zana appreciated that Halda was struggling to raise her children responsibly; she didn't have any living relatives, which was unusual for a Chimpanzee, and had to rely on her wits, endurance, and frugality to get her family over each moon without her children going hungry. As far as Zana could see, Iska and Evon were well-fed, reasonably well-clothed, and well-behaved, if a bit on the serious side in Iska's case. Halda wasn't a bad mother, just a strict one. Perhaps you had to be, in her situation.
But her heart ached for that serious little girl sitting across from her, unable to enjoy a slice of cream cake, for fear what her mother would say if she learned about it.
"Well, we don't have to fill our day with sweets," she said brightly, "we can go down to the stadium..."
Iska's eyes grew huge with alarm, and Zana hastily continued, "... to pet the horses-"
"I want to ride on a pony!" Evon exclaimed.
"... and they're selling balloons there, too," Zana added, closely watching Iska's face. "Balloons that fly up into the sky if you don't hold on tight to them, and there's nice music playing..."
"I don't know..." Iska murmured, staring at her plate, but Zana heard the longing in her voice. "Mother doesn't like the races..."
"We're not going inside," Zana reassured her. "We're not buying any tickets, and we're not watching any races."
Iska looked torn. "I don't know..."
"I'm going!" Evon declared. "Can I ride on a pony? And I want ten balloons, and a waffle, and an apple with the red stuff around it, the red stuff that breaks when you bite into it and then it crunches..."
"Let's go down there first, and look what they have," Zana laughed, valiantly forcing back the tears in her eyes. I could've had this...
She swallowed heavily, and waved for the human to come to her table so that she could pay. It was no use dwelling on what could have been. It was a sure recipe to make herself sad, and that would be unfair to Halda's children. Iska didn't look as if she was enjoying herself anyway.
When they stepped out of the tea house, the sun had already climbed up high above the rooftops, and the air was so warm that Zana took off her woolen scarf and tied it around her waist. The streets were packed with people, and she took both Iska's and Evon's hands in hers, so that she wouldn't lose them in the crowd. Iska trotted at her side without a fuss, but Evon jerked her arm in all directions as he darted this way and that, whenever something exciting caught his eye.
They went to the market, where Evon got his balloon, and a toy horse, and Iska a hair bow and a little wooden box to put it in, and then Zana bought them ice cream, and they went down to the round tent at the big stadium, where tired looking humans led equally tired looking ponies round and round the sanded arena, while little ape children clung to the ponies' backs with a look of utter bliss on their faces. Zana found it strange that pony riding was such an attraction in this rural area, then remembered that almost nobody had a farm around here; the woodworkers' children had probably no more opportunity to ride on horseback than she'd had, back in the City.
"Don't you want to ride, too?" she asked Iska, who was wiping Evon's ice cream-smeared mouth with what looked like one of Halda's old scarves.
Iska shrugged and watched as a human swept Evon up and sat him on the pony's back. "No, I don't care for horses."
You've made a habit of not caring for much, Zana thought. That's one way to avoid being disappointed...
"Well, that's alright then," she said aloud. "One can't care for everything."
"I care for Evon," Iska said after a pause.
Zana smiled. "Oh yes, I can see that. You wiped his sticky little face as if you were a mother."
Iska straightened, for the first time looking anything other than sullen. "I can do a lot of things, just like any grown up!"
"I'm sure you can," Zana said, keeping an eye on Evon, who was wiggling his behind on the pony in an attempt to make it go faster. The human had already grabbed him twice to keep him from sliding off. "You're a very mature young lady."
Iska nodded vigorously. "I can make breakfast, and lunch, and dinner. And I can make our beds. And, and..." She faltered for a moment, searching her memory for more things to boast about. "I can bring Evon to bed, and tell him a good night story!"
"Do you tell him the same story that your mother tells him, or do you have your own stories?" Zana wanted to know. If taking care of her baby brother was the only thing in her life the poor girl was proud of, Zana was determined to let her milk every ounce of appreciation from her that she could get.
"Mother doesn't tell us stories," Iska said with a shrug. "I make up my own. I had to come up with so many stories that one night, because he just wouldn't sleep! I had to tell him ten different stories, until the sun came up, and then we both slept, and I was late for school."
"Didn't your mother come in and send you to bed, when it got too late for stories?" Zana wondered. From what she had seen, Halda ran a tight ship - this endless story session couldn't have escaped her notice.
"No, she wasn't there."
Zana blinked. "What do you mean? She was gone all night?"
Iska nodded, the familiar look of worry back on her face.
"Does that happen often?" Zana asked, careful not to alarm the girl further. "Then Evon is lucky to have such a competent sister, who keeps him entertained in the meantime."
"No, it only happened twice," Iska said hastily. "Mother is always home before dark."
The ponies stopped, and Evon begged for another round. Zana absently paid for two more rounds, not really paying attention to Evon's delighted cries. She leaned heavily against the railing, watching Evon on his pony, waiting for the flutter in her stomach to die down. Beside her, Iska had climbed onto the railing and was dangling her legs, watching the ponies, too.
"Are you sure you don't want to ride for one round?" Zana asked, but Iska just shook her head.
"When was that?" Zana wanted to know. "When your mother only came home in the morning," she explained at Iska's frown.
"The night before last night," Iska said, then yelled at the passing Evon to stop wiggling. "And the other time was when the moon was full. I remember, because I told Evon lots of stories about the moon, and how one time, the dumb Gorilla tried to eat the moon..."
Her voice faded into the background noise of horses, humans, and children. Zana held on to the railing, her eyes fixed on Evon circling the far side of the tent.
The night before last night was the night when Peet had been attacked. The same night in which Vilam had been killed.
And the night of the full moon...
... In that night, Felga had been strangled.
But maybe not with a racer's bandage.
If the crowd was already packed outside the gates of the stadium - buying sweets, riding the carousels, and gaping at the dazzling displays of garishly colored and totally useless souvenirs of the racing fair - it was squeezing into a solid, suffocating block of fur and fangs at the entrance to the stadium, shoving and pressing from all sides against Virdon in its rush to get in.
"Why are you paying for tickets?" he asked Galen, whose back was pressing against his ribcage. "We could've taken the back entrance that's for the owners..."
"I don't want to draw attention," Galen answered without turning his head - not that he could've done so anyway; the apes were converging on the gates like a herd of panicked cattle. Virdon hoped that nobody would stumble and get trampled - if a panic broke out, things could get out of control in a heartbeat.
"Then you shouldn't have brought me along," he couldn't resist pointing out to Galen. It was true - despite their single-mindedness, the apes threw glances his way that ranged from curious to irritated. Humans didn't pay to visit the races; they ran them, or they served snacks to the apes.
Galen didn't answer, either because he didn't know what to say, or because he was lacking breath to say anything, and Virdon fell silent too, and concentrated on getting through the gates alive.
The crowd thinned out immediately beyond the gates, and Virdon eagerly sucked in a lungful of fresh air, blessedly free from the smell of ape fur and cheap perfume. "Alright, we're inside. What's our next step?"
"We find Peet, and leave inconspicuously through a side entrance," Galen muttered. He avoided to meet Virdon's gaze; his eyes were scanning the milling apes, looking for Olman's security, maybe.
Virdon stared at him. "That's... a pretty daring plan." It wasn't a plan at all; Galen was panicking, probably remembering Zana's threat to leave him, if he couldn't get his hands on Burke.
"I brought you because you know your way around here," Galen said gruffly. "Let's go."
Virdon hesitated; their chances of kidnapping Pete - no, Liquid Fire - in broad daylight, on the day of the biggest racing event in the prefecture, were close to nonexistent. On the other hand, he couldn't think of a better alternative right now, and arguing with Galen was pointless at any time.
He sighed and nodded towards the kennel section. "I hope they're still there."
But the area was deserted; the cabins were empty, their doors wide open. A groom pointed them to the warming-up area, and Virdon's hope plummeted. If the racers had already been taken out to the tracks, there would be no opportunity to sneak away with Burke.
"What is your plan B, if this doesn't work?" he asked, as they limped towards the round paddock, where humans were stretching and jogging up and down - well, he was limping, but this time, Galen was adjusting his speed to his, maybe so he could win another few moments to think up a plan B.
"Break into Olman's estate, and get Peet out," Galen said tersely, still not looking at him.
"Olman will have security," Virdon warned. "Guarding the perimeter, and patrolling the grounds."
"Well, you were a soldier," Galen snapped, "I trust that you'll know how to deal with them, for the sake of your friend."
Virdon dug his teeth into the flesh on the inside of his lip to prevent himself from telling the ape exactly what was on his mind, and focused on their current predicament instead.
The warming-up arena was a wide, sanded place that was surrounded by a wooden railing - it looked exactly like a round pen, which Virdon found more irritating than usual right now. The humans were focused on their limbering exercises, never lifting their gazes to glance at the world outside the fence. He could see Burke in his white shorts, white because he didn't belong to any established kennel, but Burke didn't lift his gaze, either, so Virdon couldn't even alert him to their presence...
"Sorry, sir, you can't pass." A burly chimpanzee in a dark green uniform had stepped into Galen's way. Virdon stopped, too, careful not to stand too close to either ape.
Galen gestured towards the round pen. "I own one of the racers-"
The other chimp folded his arms before his chest. "That ban extends to owners and trainers - no exemptions."
"That is unheard of," Galen blustered. "You can't deny me access to my property!"
He's just using an irrefutable argument, by ape standards, Virdon reminded himself. He has to use what works.
"The president of the racing commission made that decree himself," the security guard growled. "You can make your argument with him, and with the other members of the commission." He pointed towards the clubhouse.
"I don't understand the reason for this measure," Galen protested. "In all the previous races, I had always access to my racer."
Virdon thought that he understood the reason for Olman's sudden new policy all too well.
"It's because of the Blaze problem," the chimp muttered, looking a bit chagrined now. "The president doesn't want any last-moment attempts to, ah, improve a racer's chances."
"That's ridiculous," Galen huffed. "I don't need to dope my human, he runs like the wind."
The chimp shrugged. "You need to take it up with the president then. I have my orders."
About fifty yards behind him, Burke had come to a halt and was staring at them. Virdon met his gaze, and slightly shook his head.
Burke's face showed no emotion; he just resumed his stretching routine.
Galen turned away from the security guard, and waved at Virdon to follow him. They slowly made their way back to the entrance.
"I have no idea what to do now," Galen said suddenly.
Virdon didn't answer right away. That the chimp admitted defeat at all was a surprise; but if he expected Virdon to pull a solution out of the proverbial hat, he was mistaken. Olman was a powerful ape - it wasn't just security on his property that they would have to take into account.
But there was also no question that he would leave his friend in that ape's hands, being used as a... as a stud. Nobody deserved such a degrading treatment, and Pete least of all.
They'd probably have to go with Galen's plan B, as crazy and dangerous as it was.
"Well, you better prepare the cart, and find Zana," Virdon said finally. He drew a deep breath.
"And get me enough ammunition for Betsy."