The rain was pouring down harder now, or maybe the sensation was just stronger because Burke had stepped out from the denser canopy covering the slope. He wiped the rain out of his eyes, fought for a deep breath - he still hated having water on his face, even though he knew perfectly well he wasn't drowning, goddammit - and tried to orient himself.
The river had cut its bed into a narrow valley, following the path that the mountain ridges determined; the riverbank was just a small strip of soggy soil, held in place by the trees that clung to it. Burke only recognized willows; the rest of the scenery consisted of unknown plants, whose gnarled roots and leathery leaves snagged his feet and obscured his view as he followed the river downstream. He couldn't see much of the water from where he was stumbling through the thicket, but the river was a steady pounding just beyond the underbrush, glimpses of white and gray rushing to an unknown destination. Twice he almost lost his shoes in the sucking mud, but stepping on sharp stones or thorns would slow him down more, so he didn't take them off.
No sign that Virdon had reached the embankment anywhere.
Burke stopped and peered up the steep slope. He could see the gray patch of naked soil where the road had broken off, an open wound in the mountain's side. There was the spot where they had lost... lost the wagon.
He lowered his gaze to the ground, trying to trace the trajectory of the... he drew a deep breath... Al's trajectory. He would've fallen into the river, not on solid ground - the river was chafing at the slope, leaving no space for a bank.
So - Virdon had plunged into the water. Burke let his gaze wander over the foaming surface, where dark bodies of felled trees and dead deer were whirling around their own axis as they raced by him. A man could still drown in this whitewater... or be clubbed to death by a dead tree, smashed against a rock...
He moved on, crashing through the underbrush, straining his eyes to detect his friend's body somewhere. Galen had been right - he couldn't hope to overtake or even catch up with Virdon. He could only hope that the river would spit him out somewhere... and soon.
As if Burke's fleeting acknowledgment had conjured him, Galen was suddenly by his side; the ape didn't say anything, thankfully, just swept his gaze up and down to both sides of the river as they hurried downstream.
Burke was absently aware that he should be furious at the chimp for killing Virdon, but he was too caught up in the search, too focused on scanning the embankments - he couldn't even muster enough energy to feel that rage anymore. Instead, he felt something else lodge in the pit of his stomach and spread into his chest like ice water seeping through the mud.
Dread.
Something crashed through the underbrush ahead of them, and Burke yanked at Betsy's lever without thinking, lifted the gun to his shoulder to-
"Mothers, Peet, it's me!" Zana's indignant voice sounded through the willows.
Burke sucked in air and lowered the gun. He could see her now, floating among the branches - she was on horseback. Had found a path that the horses could go, too.
She didn't ask if they had found Virdon yet; instead, she rode to the waterline and stood up in the stirrups to peer at the opposite shore. "Shouldn't we search the other side, too?"
"Ah, no," Galen said. "The river makes a bend there, see, to the right - so the current will carry Alan ashore at the outer curve... if there is an embankment. There hasn't been one to speak of until now." He gestured for her to take the lead; maybe he hoped that moving towards that bend would be easier if they let Tala clear a path through the thicket.
When they came closer, they saw that there was an embankment - a pretty wide and flat one, even, covered with round, white rocks that would've displayed Virdon like on a screen. The water lapping at the stones was shallow and calm compared to the roaring hell in the middle of the riverbed, but Virdon wasn't there.
Galen bent over something at the water's edge. "I believe something was washed up there," he said thoughtfully. "See this indentation? Something big."
"As big as Alan's body?" Zana asked, and Burke clenched his teeth at the hope in her voice. He wouldn't let himself get sucked into a false hope like that.
Galen shrugged. "It's hard to say. Those rocks don't yield like sand would have - it's not really an imprint I can read. But then I'm not a hunter... I can't read tracks the way Alan could... can."
He straightened to scan the rest of the embankment. "It seems that someone did cross the shore from this spot, though." He pointed, his finger tracing a line in the air to the dead trunk of a willow tree.
Zana turned her head to follow his outline. "Or maybe I made those, when I rode out here," she said dejectedly. "I don't think that Alan would've been able to get up and walk away. And it would've been sensible to stay and wait for us to find him, anyway. He has no map, he wouldn't be able to find a nearby settlement..."
Galen drew a deep breath and held it for a moment. He shrugged and opened his mouth-
Burke cut in before the ape could say anything. "Yeah, guess that's your tracks, then. Al's..." He choked on the words. "He's not here. And this here would've been his best chance to survive." He clenched his fists for a moment, then forced the words out. "He's dead."
For a moment, the only sound was the roaring of the river. Burke stared out over the water, focusing on every carefully drawn breath, trying not to think any thoughts. Trying to white out.
That's not how we do things, Al. That's not what we do.
That's not what Virdon had done, though. Galen had let go.
I was a second too late. A goddamn second ! He didn't know who deserved his rage more, in that moment - Galen for letting Virdon fall to his death, or he himself, for being too slow to catch him.
Just a second...
"I refuse to believe that without proof," he heard Galen's voice. It was completely calm. Unconcerned. Burke squeezed his eyes shut and kept his fists pressed to his sides.
"And the only proof I accept is Alan's body," Galen continued, and now Burke couldn't ignore him any longer. He spun around.
"Have you looked at the water, Galen?" he snarled. "It's a goddamn maelstrom - if he didn't break his neck when he hit the surface, he was ripped apart by the fucking tree trunks in there, or smashed against a boulder, or carried to the sea, or wherever that fucking river ends! We'll never find his body!"
"It's too early to give up the search," Galen said stubbornly. "And Alan didn't give up so quickly on you."
Burke's field of vision narrowed, a hazy pink like a closing aperture, and then Zana was there, wedging her horse between him and Galen, and Burke took two tumbling steps back until he stood ankle-deep in the icy water. The cold bit into his feet, and he focused on that pain until the tunnel vision had faded.
"Maybe Galen is right," Zana was saying somewhere far away. "Maybe Alan has already washed up here, and someone found him and took him away. There are settlements in that valley, according to our map - we're not so far away from Chubla, actually."
"Who the hell would stumble around in the wilderness in this weather?" Burke ground out.
"Apart from us, you mean?" Galen said. "Hunters, for example. Traders. People needing to travel to town to call a doctor to their village, and taking a shortcut through this valley. It's not as impossible as you're making it out to be."
He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe it so bad that it hurt. But... "Even if that was true, why would they care about a drowned human?"
Galen hesitated for a moment. "He's valuable," he muttered, clearly uncomfortable all of a sudden. "His color... you know that."
"Oh yeah," Burke groaned, "do I know that. You've harped on it over and over again."
"Before apes started... appreciating the different types, humans had been interbreeding indiscriminately, because their numbers had dwindled so much, and as a result, the lighter colors had begun to disappear," Galen said. He studiously stared out over the churning river. "Now they're rare, and what's rare is... sought after. Whoever found him wouldn't have let him lie there. They would've taken him with them."
Burke rubbed his face. "But that's just as bad! How in hell are we ever going to find him then? Do you really think whoever nabbed Al will just step forth and raise their hand?"
"Maybe not the one who took him," Galen said with a shrug, turning his head to meet his gaze. "But the ones who saw them. You know how people are - they love to gossip, and they begrudge others the things they would like to own themselves, but can't have. They will tell us if anyone has suddenly acquired a light-colored human, believe me."
"Or they'll call for the town watch when we turn up," Burke muttered. "Look at us, we're wet and covered in mud... we look like drowned rats."
"Not at all." Galen smiled thinly, and gestured at his doctor's bag that was strapped to Apache's back. "We'll make ourselves presentable in the next inn, and then the eminently respectable Dr. Kova, his wife, and his remaining orderly will start making their rounds of inquiry." He turned away from the waterline and let Zana pull him up behind her on Tala. "How fortuitous that I was able to save both my equipment and our money, don't you think?"
If you hadn't saved your precious history book, we wouldn't have to make those 'rounds of inquiry' in the first place, you idiotic, murderous monkey!
Burke just grabbed Apache's reins and dragged the horse after him as he followed Tala and the apes, feeling murderous himself.
"Was that really necessary?" he heard Zana's voice. "The situation is not really comparable to when Urko captured Peet..."
"Peet accuses me of murdering Alan, and you wonder if my arguments are inappropriate?" Galen retorted.
Deny it all you want. I know what I saw.
"Believe me, I want to find Alan just as urgently as you and Peet, if not more," Galen continued. Burke couldn't see his face from where he was walking, but he could imagine the ape's nose twitching.
"I can't wait to find Alan," Galen was saying, "and have him clear up his friend's mistaken assumption - and hear his explanation why he abandoned him in a world of apes."
The first thing coalescing from the void was pain. It was low and steady, a deep hum in his bones, reassuring somehow - outlining the shape of him, confirming that he had one; that he wasn't just a dream-self floating in the darkness.
The next sensation drifting to the surface of his dream was that of weight. It took him a moment to realize that it belonged to that body, too. The pain and the weight were somehow him, pressing him against...
... something rough, and uncomfortably warm. Heated by the same painful, heavy body, reflected back into his aching flesh. The pain was getting sharper now, more defined, lodging closer to him, enclosing him in... in...
... his skull. And now the sensations all blinked into existence at once - his eyelids closed, and weak light beyond those lids; the weight of a blanket draped over him; his body spread out endlessly, his feet feeling very far away.
And then something moving, taking the light away. He jerked back, panic jolting through him like white fire.
A touch on his shoulder, warm. Skin to skin. Blanket rubbing over his skin, everywhere. That felt wrong, somehow. A blanket wasn't enough, it made him feel... exposed, and in danger...
He wanted to curl up, but he couldn't move his legs, they were too heavy, too long...
"Everything's fine." The voice was low, soothing. Woman. "You're safe here, nobody's going to harm you."
The words didn't mean anything to him. He fought to open his eyes, to orient himself. The touch stayed on his shoulder, moving against it in small circles. He wished it would go away.
His lids felt sandy, and his vision blurred, and then the light made them water, and his vision blurred some more. The silhouette between him and the light seemed to be of the woman who had spoken to him, and she was softly stroking his shoulder. He blinked rapidly, trying to see her more clearly.
"You're safe here," the shadow repeated. "I'm a healer, I'm here to help you get well again."
The blanket didn't touch his skin everywhere, he noticed now; parts of his body were covered by fabric clinging tightly to him...
... bandages. The realization came only after he strained for the word. Bandages also covered his head. Maybe he had hurt it, too, and that's why he was so slow.
"I'm Laisa," the woman said. He could see her outline more clearly now - dark hair, its contours illuminated by the fire behind her. Her face was in the shadows, but she looked familiar. He couldn't place her, but he was sure that he knew her, somehow.
"Can you tell me what happened?"
He couldn't. There was only darkness when he cast his mind back to the before.
There was no 'Before'.
He mutely shook his head.
"Well, people sometimes don't remember the moment of their accident." He thought he could see the shadowy face smile, but he wasn't sure. His eyes were still watering. "The mind protects itself from these memories. This is normal, and no reason for worry. The young master told me he found you by the river. Do you remember how you got there? What happened before you had your accident?"
The darkness was the same - a soft, friendly darkness, making him sleepy. He shook his head again.
"Can you tell me your name? Can you talk at all?" The voice still sounded friendly, unconcerned. Nothing to worry about.
It was difficult to talk; his mouth and throat were dry. The healer gave him some water, and he tried again. "I... no. I don't... know..."
He still didn't feel concerned. He probably should remember his name, but somehow it wasn't bad that he didn't. He was in a good place right now, and right now was all that mattered.
"Well... you also injured your head." The woman lightly patted his shoulder. "Sometimes memories get buried for a while. As you heal, they will come back. Don't worry about it for now."
He didn't worry. He felt sleepy and hot, but safe. It would be safe to sleep here.
He jerked awake when the warmth suddenly vanished. Someone had ripped the blanket away. He gasped, his heart thundering in his chest.
A wizened, bearded face was staring down at him behind golden-rimmed spectacles. The hairline was too low, and the beard intruded too far into the face... a face that looked somehow skewed...
Ape, his brain provided after a stunned moment. Powerful. Don't anger them.
He averted his gaze, trying to find the woman again.
She was there, standing to one side, hands nervously knotting, head bowed. Deferring to the ape who was now removing his bandages, exposing him. His hands twitched at his sides, but he forced them to remain there, to not push the ape away.
Don't fight. They're in charge. He didn't know how he knew, but the certainty froze his limbs and choked his breath.
The ape's hands were probing at his ribs, his limbs, his joints, pressing into his cuts, digging into his skull. The chimp was examining his wounds, his touches were impersonal and disinterested, and despite the pain, that realization made his muscles relax, and freed his breath.
The ape ordered him to turn around, on his belly, and resumed his examination. When he was done, all his pains were howling with protest, a chorus of sharp and angry beasts tearing into him as if he had disturbed their sleep. He rolled on his back with a groan.
"The beast is remarkably sturdy," the ape said to someone in the back of the room. "Some ribs are broken, and it has suffered severe contusions, flesh wounds and abrasions, as well as a concussion. It's a miracle that it survived at all, and in such a relatively good condition. You said it doesn't remember its name?" he turned to the healer.
The woman shook her head. "No, doctor - he doesn't remember what happened before his accident, either."
"Maybe a brain injury," the ape muttered. "In that case, I'm afraid its usefulness will be severely diminished." He returned to the bed to shine a light in his eyes, capturing his head when he wanted to jerk away, then ordered him to follow his finger with his eyes, and to tell him how many fingers he could see.
"If you're lucky, it has only lost its memory," the ape said at last. "But that means it might have forgotten its former training, too. It's a blank slate - a lot of work."
"I don't mind," a new voice said from the shadows. "I know how to train a human."
"Not so fast." Yet another voice! How many people were in the room with him now? He'd lost track. That new voice was deep, male - an adult. Someone with authority. Another ape, most probably.
Suddenly, this place didn't feel safe anymore.
The doctor moved into the shadows, and he could hear him and that other voice conversing with each other - a low, unintelligible murmur that made him restless.
Another face appeared at his bed, just as hairy and skewed... ape... but much younger. The eyes of this new visitor shone with excitement as he perched on the edge of his bed. "I'm Ennis. I'm the one who found you at that riverbank. At first I thought you were dead, but then I saw that you weren't. I bet you fell into the river from that road. A lot of deer fall into the river when there's a landslide. Were you hunting deer?"
He didn't know. He didn't remember, so he just shrugged; but he peered into that young face with more interest. This ape was no more than a boy, brimming with the exuberance of all boys. It reminded him of... someone, he couldn't remember who, but that sense of familiarity let him relax some more, and he smiled at his rescuer. He wanted to tell him that he was grateful for the rescue, but his throat was parched again, and hurting.
Then he remembered something - an ape gesture someone had shown him once. For a moment, he wished he could remember who it had been. They must've been friendly, because the gesture was one of affection.
He reached out and softly tapped his knuckles against the ape's chest.
The boy's eyes widened for a moment; then he broke into a grin. "Father, the human just thanked me for saving him!"
Now there was movement in the shadows, and then the ape doctor returned with two other apes in tow.
One of them had reddish fur, and a mild, slightly saggy face, and stayed in the background. But the other one exuded power, a steely authority that was comfortable with weighing people's lives and deciding their worth.
For a moment, ape and human locked eyes, and the human felt something equally cold and unyielding rise up in himself in response to the ape's glare.
Then he remembered his position, and averted his gaze.
"I've seen a lot of humans in my life, son," the ape said after a moment of silence. "And that one is a wildling. He's not tame, never has been. I'm not going to risk your life by letting you attempt to train him. He'll rip your throat out."
"No he won't, Father," the boy protested. "He knows I saved his life! And he already submitted, on his own! Show him," he turned to address him directly. "Show my father what you just did!"
He felt strange all of a sudden, exposed and ridiculous, as if he had been told to perform a trick for the apes, but he obediently repeated the gesture, tapping his knuckles against the boy's chest in the simian gesture for gratefulness and affection.
"See?" The boy whipped his head around and stared intently into his father's face. "He knows! He'll be good! And he's my birthday present from the Mothers, and you don't defy the Mothers, right, Zatis?"
The red ape - the one with the saggy face - raised his hands. "It's not my place to question your father's decisions, young man, and neither is it yours."
"Father, please!" The boy was pleading now, and the human felt he had to support him somehow; he seemed to be the only ally he had among these apes. He didn't remember anything of his former life, as far as he could tell, but he still had retained the knowledge that in this world, apes decided a human's fate.
"Ennis!" That was the red ape again, his voice soft, understanding... but demanding the boy obey his father all the same.
Ennis hesitated; then he flicked a glance back to him, and held his gaze for a moment. There was a message in that look - pay attention! - and then he slowly got up from the bed and hunkered down before his father, one hand stretched out to him, palm-up.
The ape took a step back, surprise and dismay clearly written in his face. "Ennis, what...?"
The boy jumped to his feet and turned back to the bed. "Will you be good? A good human?"
His body was still hurting all over, his head a fuzzy blob of pain and nausea, but he knew... he sensed... that this was his only chance.
He crawled out of bed, hitting the floor on all four; even if he had wanted, he wouldn't have been able to stand upright in that moment. Held out his hand to the boy as he had seen him do it a moment before, head bowed.
A moment of utter silence passed; then he felt the boy's fingers brush lightly against his open palm. "Good boy. See, Father? He understands, and he submits, even if he's a wildling."
"He understands that you're his best chance of survival." The father's voice was dry. "That doesn't mean he won't attack as soon as he's able to. Or run away."
"Let me deal with that." Ennis' voice, but it was muted, and somehow far away. "Can't you just trust me, Father? Just once? I'm not a child anymore."
Another moment of silence. Then a sigh. "Maybe we should put your human back on his cot again before he passes out at your feet."
"Thank you, Father, thank you, thank you..."
Someone grabbed him under the arms, someone else his ankles. "Don't thank me yet, son - there's a lot of work waiting for you."
He was lifted into the air, a moment of sickening disorientation-
"You'll supervise its progress..."
"Yes, Father!"
He was back on his bed, the pain pouncing on him now like a ravaged beast.
"Train it..."
"Yes, Father!"
"... after you've done all your homework, and your lessons with Zatis!"
"... yes, Father." That one didn't sound as enthusiastic.
"If I see your grades suffer, this little experiment will be cancelled immediately."
"Yes Father. I understand."
"Good. Now I suggest we let the healer get to work and your human get some sleep."
"Yes, Father... just one moment..."
Someone was crouching down by his side, and then Ennis's voice whispered at his ear. "Your name is Taris from now on, and I'll teach you everything, and I'll take good care of you, and then you won't run away. Because this is your home now."
He felt the boy's hand stroke his hair. "And now I order you to sleep and get well. Sleep!"
Taris tumbled into sleep, too exhausted to worry about his master's other command.
