As the day crept by, from light gray to dark gray outside the window, the pain in Burke's head and back eased up bit by bit, and with the clarity in his head, his annoyance at himself grew, too.

Good job messing up your only chance of escape, idiot. What was that about taking the damn kapo into account?

He should never have turned his back at the bastard. But the guy had been on the other side of the yard, and the alley had only been a few steps away...

Maybe they had baited him on purpose.

Burke shifted around, trying to find a position where his kidneys wouldn't try to claw their way out of his back. The gorilla had brought him a bowl of water earlier, but hadn't unshackled his hands, and the chain was too short to pick up the bowl, so Burke had been forced to lap up the water like a dog. He'd even had the option of breakfast - the kid had chucked a slice of his nut bread into Burke's cage when their kapo hadn't been looking. But with his wrists chained to the bars, he hadn't been able to catch it, and he wasn't yet hungry enough to dig it out of the soiled straw and eat it.

He shifted around some more, and kicked against the wall of his cage in frustration. This whole setup reminded him more and more of his time with Urko - the purposefully too-small cage, the chains, the humiliation of feeding him like a dog...

Now be fair, at least they give you something to drink here.

... and then send him out to get himself killed in some underground fight club. Burke hoped that Virdon had gotten a better assignment than him.

Surviving this night would be tough. He still had a concussion, which was slowing down his reflexes and dulling his perception - or scarface wouldn't have been able to tackle him -, and spending two days in a tiny crate had cramped up his muscles. From what he had been able to see during the daylight hours, both Len and scarface had bigger cages than him. Maybe the confinement was meant to break a prisoner's will.

You need a few more weeks and a broom to get anywhere with me...

But he sure hoped that Zana and Al... and okay, Galen... would've found him before that point. Burke was pretty sure that Zana was already lighting a fire under Galen's ass; and she had proven that she was a damn fine sleuth in Sapan, so maybe he still had a chance... if he survived tonight's fight. And maybe he'd get a bigger cage, too, if he won, and get himself in better shape - then he'd see if he couldn't find another chance to escape. Burke was getting tired of being rescued again and again. It was becoming something like a bad habit.

The sound of the bolt ratcheting outside the main door pulled him out of his brooding. Burke threw a quick glance to the window: the light outside had taken on an indigo tint.

Showtime.

The steps moved past the kapo's cage and stopped in front of his. Burke hastily got on his knees to avoid being dragged out into the aisle on his belly when the door opened. He had a feeling that they wouldn't unchain him from the door first.

His suspicion proved to be correct, although that safety measure wouldn't have been necessary - his legs were numb and tingling and he doubted he'd be able to get up on his own. Still, one of Asar's goons was aiming a gun at him while the gorilla bent down and finally opened his shackles. Burke bit back a grin. If they needed to take him out at gunpoint, he must've appeared less crappy than he felt.

The gorilla pulled him to his feet and put the irons on him again - this time, his wrists were bound behind his back, and his ankles were chained, too.

Jus' need an orange jumper and a sexy lawyer now...

He would've preferred to walk all the way to the fighting pit to get some life back into his legs, but he was pushed into a covered cart that was parked in the yard. The platform swayed a bit, as the gorilla and the gun-toting chimp joined him.

"You gotta muzzle him," Burke heard the chimp mutter. "Can't have him howling in the streets."

The gorilla grumbled something under his breath, and jumped from the wagon again. He returned a moment later, and roughly dragged a leather mask over Burke's head that painfully clamped his jaw shut. Burke faintly remembered from his days in Zana's institute that the things were adjustable, but Koko here apparently didn't want to take any chances.

They were rolling through the streets for a surprisingly long time, always upslope. If this town was built like Sapan, that meant they were heading for the supposedly better parts of Etissa. At least the air was getting better, though Burke had his doubts about the residents.

The wagon was crunching fine gravel, by the sound of it, then the sounds stopped altogether - they were rolling over grass now. Probably under a rich asshole's tree-house. Burke didn't get to admire the view when they stopped and dragged him out, though - the gorilla put a bag over is head and he was led, stumbling and with a pounding heart, into a building.

They removed the bag before he succumbed to the panic; sucking in deep breaths through his leather muzzle, Burke blinked rapidly and tried to orient himself.

He was standing in a paddock - no, he was indoors. A riding hall. Perfect for this kind of shit - a sandy underground, ample space, only one gate that was heavily guarded, and even stands to one side, where apes were already jostling each other for the best seats. Even more apes were milling about in the arena itself, inspecting the fighters, or giving their own fighter a last quick massage, and last instructions.

Asar did neither; he was talking to an orangutan in a plum-colored robe who was apparently the owner of this fine establishment. Burke tried not to stare at him - save for Zaius, he hadn't seen another orangutan since they had left the City. The buggers were notoriously reclusive, preferring to lead from behind. To see one of them hosting an illegal fighting match was mind-blowing.

Well, if he got paid a commission by every ape providing a fighter, and entrance fees from the spectators... Burke suspected he was making a nice buck on the side. Didn't necessarily mean he was interested in the spectacle itself.

The orangutan left, confirming his theory, and Asar returned to his side.

"What's that drowned rat you dragged in here, Asar?" one of the other patrons hollered at him. The other apes laughed.

"Fresh catch from the road," Asar called back.

"More like roadkill," the other clown replied, and the crowd howled with laughter.

Asar just smiled, and ruffled Burke's hair. "We'll see." He muttered a quick instruction to the gorilla, and the ape pulled Burke to the far wall of the arena and began to briskly rub down his arms and legs.

Burke tried to tell him to get rid of the damn shackles so that he could do some stretches, at least, but the muzzle mercilessly forced his jaw together and muffled whatever sounds he was able to produce. He really sounded like an animal now, and after a few attempts to make himself understood, he gave up with a frustrated growl.

The gorilla ignored him, but to Burke's relief, took off the muzzle after he had finished his perfunctory massage. In the background, the apes had already formed a circle around the first two humans and were cheering on their favorites.

"Look, if you wanna make money with me, try again some other night," Burke said quickly. "You knocked me out cold, and I'm still dizzy, an'..."

"No worries," the gorilla rumbled. "Asar got you an easy kill."

Burke stared at him for a moment. "Easy kill, huh," he said when he had found his voice again. "The kid said you also win if the other taps out..."

"Tha's because he's still in training," the gorilla said. He patted Burke's shoulder. "You don' need training."

"You always need training," Burke said weakly. Jesus Christ, they really expected him to climb into the ring and kill some stranger with his bare hands for no reason... other than money, of course.

Kill, or be killed. He could faintly hear the slaps and grunts of the fighters over the howling and cheering of the apes. How the hell am I gonna get out of this?

The crowd erupted in cheers and hisses, and opened up quickly to let the human stumble out and towards his owners. Burke couldn't see the other one, but the fact that only one human left the fight on his feet told him enough.

"Your turn," the gorilla said, and shoved him towards the waiting apes.

Eager faces turned towards him, not quite human, but similar enough to look hideously disfigured; they stared at him, some excited, some calculating, all of them thirsting for his blood, his pain, his killing rage. As Burke stumbled between them, the scent of sweat and blood from the first fight engulfed him, caught among the tightly packed bodies of the spectators.

I don't wanna kill... I wanna kill on my own terms...

The crowd closed behind him. The space they left for the fighters was surprisingly small. Not big enough for evading, regrouping, drawing out a fight - the humans were forced to fight at close quarters, get into contact immediately, and stay at it until one went down.

... and then finish him there.

Burke flexed his fingers and placed his feet. No matter how much he loathed this whole situation, he was determined not to be the one they dragged out by the ankles.

If someone's gotta die tonight, it won't be me.

The crowd opposite of him parted, and his opponent was ushered in. He took up position immediately, fists up, and shaking like a leaf.

Burke gaped at him.

The boy couldn't be older than fourteen; he wasn't as wiry as Len was - in fact, Burke thought he could detect a bit of baby fat in the boy's face. He was staring at him with huge, watery eyes.

Trying not to piss his pants, Burke realized. Fucking Cesar, they threw a Chihuahua into the pit with me! Probably nabbed him from some rich ape lady, the poor bastard.

He let his hands sink to his sides and relaxed. "I'm not gonna fight you," he told the kid.

The boy didn't give any indication that he had heard him. Burke didn't even bring up his arms again to block him, as he swung a desperate hit against his ribs. The kid had no idea how to fight. Burke doubted he'd know how to kill him even if they had left his irons and the muzzle on.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he called to the laughing apes.

"Kill it! Kill it! Make it bleed!" the crowd howled.

Burke stared at them with disgust. For once, he was out of curses - 'fucking monkeys' was way too tame for this spectacle from hell. The boy lunged at him again, and he sidestepped him. He could keep this up all night, or until they pitted him against someone who could at least defend himself.

The laughter and cheering gave way to boos and hisses. "What?" Burke yelled, "Are you not entertained?" He evaded yet another badly-aimed swing at his ribs, and quickly ruffled the boy's hair. "Not gonna happen tonight, gents - I don't kill babies!"

The apes were getting restless now; angry voices were demanding their money back, or to kill the damn beast for disobedience, or both. Asar's gorilla was plowing through the upset apes towards him. Burke eyed him warily and fell into a fighting stance.

"Asar wants to talk to you," the gorilla muttered, and shoved him through the throng of enraged spectators.

The chimp was lounging against the wall, looking deceptively relaxed; only his tight smile betrayed his anger. "Seems there's a bit of a misunderstanding going on," he said as soon as Burke was in hearing range. "Didn't Tulko tell you what you're supposed to do?"

"That's a kid in there," Burke said. "Doesn't even know how to fight. Did you steal him from his ape missus' lap?"

Asar grinned. "Kinda. It's a greeting card for her husband. Now go back and kill it. You're costing me money."

"It's not even a fight," Burke protested.

"And here I thought I was being nice, since you're still not up to your game with your concussion," Asar said with raised brows.

"I don't kill children," Burke said, his heart beating wildly against his ribs.

Asar's smile tightened even more, until it was as thin as a blade. "You kill whatever I tell you to kill."

"Go fuck yourself."

Before Burke could react, Asar had him by the throat. "Now listen carefully," the ape growled, his face an inch away from Burke's. "You go back in there and kill that cub, or I'll go and break you little friend's neck when we get back."

He released Burke just as suddenly. "Your choice which one of them dies tonight."

Tulko's grip around his arm was like iron, but Burke didn't really feel it - like the howls and jeers of the crowd, and the cold light of the gas lamps that were hanging overhead, it was dim and far away. His head was empty; he couldn't think, couldn't decide.

Your choice which of them dies.

The kid was openly crying now - maybe he had seen a decision in his face that Burke wasn't yet aware of himself. He stared into the pale, pudgy face.

I'm gonna make it quick, he silently promised the boy. You won't feel a thing.

There would be no show. No blood. Burke sidestepped the next lunge, grabbed the boy's head, and broke his neck with one swift motion.

The apes howled with glee.

Then Asar was there all of a sudden, in a cluster of apes who were snarling in Burke's face - grinning, he realized distantly - and there were a lot of hands all over him, petting him like a dog.

Like the good dog he was.

When Virdon remembered his name again, it was dark. Dark and silent, and nobody in the room but him.

At least, his breathing was the only sound he could hear.

He was lying on his belly, on the bed. His whole body was tingling, whether from the drug, or from the sweat drying on his back, he couldn't say.

The sheets under him were sticky. Soiled.

He was...

He was thirsty. Maybe they had left some water beside the bed.

After some indefinite time, he had gathered enough of his will to lift his head and feel around in the darkness until he found a mug and a pitcher. Water.

The water was good.

He tried to avoid thinking as long as possible, because with the thoughts, the memories would come back, and the feelings.

But this first tendril of awareness had already been too much. He remembered what he had done.

He hadn't gone away. He had stopped thinking - and the drug had made that so easy - but with the ability to think, his ability to project himself somewhere else had also fled. He had been there, in the room, in the women, more present than he had been at any other time, freed from the distractions of a thinking, judging, distancing mind.

That's what being an animal is like - not unconscious, just unthinking.

They did it. They really did it. If they gave everyone Blaze, all the time, they wouldn't even be lying when they call us animals.

When he listened inside himself, the strongest feeling wasn't shame, or disgust, or gut-wrenching despair, although all of these were present, sharp and piercing, as if he had swallowed a bag of knives.

But the strongest feeling was disbelief. He had fought in a war. He had been the commander of more than one space ship. He was a married man, father of two children. A grown-up man of forty-six years. A man.

How could something like this happen to me?

Men had been raped by other men. But... this...

Maybe the drug didn't take my will away. Maybe I just found it easier to stop resisting, to use the drug as an excuse to give in to my baser instincts.

He slowly sat up, every fiber of his body aching, and buried his head in his hands.

Maybe I wanted it, too. It's been so long...

To his horror, he felt his eyes getting wet again.

I didn't want it. It didn't feel like joining with a woman, like... like penetration. It felt like being devoured by them, swallowed whole, taken...

But it had felt good, every time he had come.

Of course it had, it's a part of the whole... the whole process. It's nature. It's unavoidable.

It didn't matter what he told himself. The feeling of failure grew with every passing moment. He had failed his own values; he had failed in his attempts at self-control.

He had failed Sally.

Virdon shied away from the memory of her. He couldn't look into the eyes of his wife, not even in his imagination. He wasn't sure he could face anyone, ever again.

I know how this could've happened to me, he thought bitterly. I failed to put down some ground rules with Galen beforehand. Such as every deal needing my consent... establishing a code, to keep up appearances... Instead I kept up appearances by behaving exactly like any human slave on this God-forsaken planet.

I've become one of their man-beasts. I shouldn't complain if they treat me like one.

He rose, shame making him restless. It was too dark to see anything, but he started pacing nonetheless, one hand at the wall to keep himself from tripping over the sparse furniture.

This world had imprinted on him - all those rules, spoken and unspoken, that overwhelming consensus about his species... he hadn't guarded against it, he hadn't fought it at every turn, and as a result, it had taken over his spirit, and had defeated him from within.

The enemy isn't at the gates. He's already inside the walls, poisoning the well...

I deserve this. I wasn't vigilant. I let this happen. He punched the wall in helpless rage. Now it was too late. The damage had already been done. If he'd half-heartedly planned to pick the lock and escape under cover of the dark when he had risen from the place of his defeat, that intent wilted under the bleak realization that escape was pointless by now. It wouldn't make a difference anymore. He could as well bear the remaining measure of this torture, as a fitting punishment for his former complacency.

He'd just have to make sure that none of the others ever learned the truth about his five days in hell.