Galen no longer needed the neighbour's rooster crowing before dawn to wake up; the rhythm had long settled into his bones, first spurred by the panicked worry of oversleeping, then by habit. But for some reason, his bones hadn't memorized the two holy days of the week that brought a welcome and much-needed respite from work for apekind. Galen turned around and hid his head under the pillow. Today, he didn't have to rise with the chickens. Today, he could sleep in.
Maybe Zana would later join him for breakfast again, he thought sleepily. It had been such a nice surprise yesterday when she had suddenly appeared in the kitchen and snatched away his toast. He had almost forgotten how much he had always enjoyed their shared meals... maybe, if her mood continued to improve, she'd share more than meals with him again...
... she had been in a much lighter mood. Apparently, she had been given a human all for herself to mentor, a boy with a throat injury that had rendered him mute and exceptionally shy...
Galen turned on his back again, now more awake than he wanted. He remembered the boy; he had seen him, if only from afar, when he had performed the yearly health check on the shelter's humans. The volunteers hadn't managed to collect this particular individual, and so Galen had been forced to just read up on the case in Ropal's notes. Zorya had promised him to capture the boy to catch up on his examination, but it hadn't happened so far, and from what Zana had told him yesterday, Galen suspected that nobody was too keen on playing another round of 'snare the human'. Too bad — he would've liked to have a look at that old injury; he wanted to know if the boy was genuinely unable to form words because of it.
Well, knowing Zana, she would tame the human in no time, and he'd get his chance to satisfy his curiosity. The important thing was that she was no longer so hopeless and... inert. Zana had always been full of energy and plans, and Galen was glad that the woman he had fallen in love with was finally back from wherever she had been hiding all those months. He hoped this would continue — that human better not frustrate her too much.
He managed to doze off again, but woke up when the sun was burning his eyelids. It would be another hot day, but he'd spend it with some iced lemonade in his pleasantly cool living room, reading the latest medical journals that Melvin had sent him via Ango, or copying another chapter of the Book for Dolan.
Or maybe just quietly chatting with Zana, listening to her plans for Boy. The human didn't even have a name, but Zana had decided to let him choose one for himself. Galen thought that by now, Boy probably thought that 'boy' was his name, but he saw no harm in that. In fact, no matter what happened between Boy and Zana, it was all fine with Galen as long as it made Zana happy.
Zana was indeed up and about, sipping her tea, when he came down into the living room. Galen's heart made a little jump when she smiled at him over the rim of her cup, and he beamed at her in response. She accepted a peck on her cheek, but reached for the toasted nut bread before he could hug her.
Well. Maybe it was for the better, a breakfast was no reason to go overboard. Galen sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. Prila didn't make it strong enough for his taste, but that wasn't important today.
"What a beautiful morning," he said as he reached for a slice of toast. "Made all the more beautiful by the fact that I won't have to work today."
"Most probably," Zana cautioned. Of course, emergency cases were never completely out of the question, but Galen was determined not to let that possibility dampen his mood.
"Most probably," he cheerfully agreed, "but I have a good feeling about this day. I'll spend it reading my journals, unless you have other plans...?"
"I'll be at the shelter," Zana said, refilling her cup and his. "Maybe Boy will let me get closer to him than twenty steps today."
"Ah," Galen said, and cradled his cup. Boy is the reason she's better now, he reminded himself. Give her time, and she'll be up for other things besides taming humans...
"... but I'll probably be back for lunch," Zana continued. "I don't want to stress him out too much; he's so shy, I need to take things slowly with him." She sighed. "He reminds me of Peet somehow. Remember how fey Peet was after Urko?"
"Yes." Galen spread a bit of curd cheese on his nut bread. He loved the contrast of the hot, crispy bread and the cool and creamy cheese. He didn't want to remember the horrible time after Peet had been rescued from Urko's torture, and all the ways their friendship had suffered as a result of Peet's explosive volatility.
He should have handled Peet better. He was the ape, after all.
Zana had caught on to his drop in mood, and they finished their meal in silence, although it seemed to Galen that she was more absentminded than put out by his sudden taciturnity. Still, he felt relieved when Prila swept in to clear the table. The clatter of plates somehow made it easier to address Zana again.
"So, do you have plans for the afternoon?"
Zana shook her head. "No, not really. It'll be too hot for anything."
"The traveling show has their big opening this evening," Prila chimed in. "Half the town will be there, and the other half will be there tomorrow."
"What traveling... oh. That pamphlet." He had completely forgotten about it.
"I found it in the trash," Zana said. "Something about a monk, I think?"
"I don't know about that," Prila said, stacking the plates and adding them to the tray. "But they have a sword swallower, and a freak show, and maybe even a trapeze number . It's a huge show, I saw the big tent at the river on my way here this morning. Lots of smaller tents around it, too."
Galen glanced at Zana, who was hiding her smile behind her cup. In order to have seen the camp, Prila had to have made quite the detour on her way to work.
"From what I remember from this pamphlet," he said, suddenly also remembering his conversation at the club, "they seem to be a bunch of quacks selling some kind of wonder medicine. I dearly hope half the town won't fall for that, nor the other half tomorrow." He raised his brows, faking innocent curiosity. "You aren't thinking of buying some, Prila, are you?"
Prila fiddled with the toast rack. "As a matter of fact, I'm going," she announced. "Only so I can tell off my sister-in-law when she comes home with bottles of wonder medicine."
"Oh, of course," Galen said in a deadpan voice. Across the table, Zana coughed into her tea.
"Well, how can I tell her off if I wasn't there to see with my own eyes how them travelers scam people?" Prila argued, a tad defensively. "Breka will make up all kinds of things that never happened if you don't shut her up early!"
"Alright, alright, I see how it's really unavoidable for you to go," Galen said, unable to keep the smile off his face. Prila huffed and marched off with her tray.
"You shouldn't have needled her so," Zana said, but she was smiling, too. "Nothing ever happens here, of course people will flock to a circus show. I mean, sword swallowers!"
"I don't mind the sword swallowers," Galen said with a dismissive twitch of his nose, "but have you read that pamphlet? This 'miracle cure' is scented water if we're lucky, poison if we're unlucky. I'm against giving con artists our money. And I'm also against quacks pretending to practice medicine! That should be illegal!"
"Well, it's Prila's money, and what harm is it if she only spends it on watching the sword swallowers, and on sugared nuts and candy floss... oh, Gal... Kova!" Zana sat up straight. "We should go, too!"
"Why?" Galen cocked his head, confused. "You can get candied fruits at the market any day."
"But I won't get to see a sword swallower there," Zana argued. "Or the tiniest circus of the known world. Please, Kova! Nothing ever happens here, and it'd be a nice distraction." She gave him her sweetest smile. "I promise not to buy any miracle cures."
"Ah, well." Galen threw his napkin on the table. A mere day ago, even the tiniest circus in the world wouldn't have lured Zana out of her room. He of all people wouldn't block her new-found enthusiasm. "Let's go, then. I need to know who we're up against, after all."
He didn't really mean it — this was poor Egvon's problem, or would be, once people found out that their ailments had worsened when they had stopped seeing the doctor in favor of glugging Wonder Cure. Egvon was a prick who looked down on 'cattle doctors', as he called them, but Galen was magnanimous enough to feel sorry for him.
Still, he suddenly wanted to watch the unfolding drama from the front row.
If anyone had any trouble finding their way down to the riverbank where Heron & Zolon's Traveling Medicine Show had set up camp, they only needed to follow the sound of the drums. The deep, hollow sound had started soon after breakfast, and hadn't let up the whole day. Galen suspected that the drummers took turns, because nobody could possibly keep at this all day without dropping dead from exhaustion. The constant pounding had certainly exhausted his eardrums. He pitied anyone who had a headache today.
Zana seemed not to mind — in fact, she looked positively giddy, just like many other apes that were bumping into him in their hurry to reach the admittance booth before him. Galen felt his mood drop some more at the sight of the booth; not only would he have to pay for every single show in addition to the sweets and trinkets they certainly would buy, he already had to part with his sembles just to be there in the first place.
"Oh, that smell has made my mouth water since Cesar's Square," Zana exclaimed as soon as they had passed the booth, "it's outright criminal that they let it waft all the way up there!" She made a beeline for a booth that offered roasted almonds. Galen felt for his pouch of sembles, expelled a tiny sigh, and followed her.
They bought a cornet of roasted almonds, and then made their way around the place, stopping at various booths to add a little box with orangeflower-scented marzipan globes, a cornet of candied fruits, one with salted licorice, one with green-and-white striped mint candies, a glass globe with a tiny replica of Central City inside that vanished in a storm of silver glitter when you shook it, a silver horsehead pendant that reminded Zana of Peet (and which Galen suspected to be silver- colored rather than being real silver), a stuffed bear that Zana wanted to give to Boy as a token of friendship, a stuffed human that, according to Zana, looked just like Alan (it had yellow hair, which was the only similarity Galen could see), a caleidoscope, a similar contraption that had tiny glass slides painted with historical scenes that you looked at through a box (the vendor called it a 'slide viewer'), a pack of novelty cards...
... at some point, Galen lost track and just blindly added yet another package to the tote hanging from his arm. Zana had the time of her life, even if she seemed a bit manic, and that was the only important thing.
"Oh, Kova, look!" Zana exclaimed. "Cotton candy! I hadn't had it since... well, you know. Since we left home." She stared at the booth for a moment, her expression suddenly somber.
Home. Galen suddenly realized that he hadn't thought of Cesarea as home for a long time. Chubla was home now... but apparently not for Zana.
"Do you want some?" he quietly asked her.
She startled, as if woken up from reverie. "Yes, I'd like some," she said, and strode to the booth, her steps a bit jerky.
She returned with two balls of candyfloss and handed one to Galen, who accepted it without a word. He hadn't wanted one for himself — he didn't care much for sweets — but it seemed to be important to Zana to share this token of her lost home with him.
Still, he'd had enough of their shopping spree. His feet were hurting, and so was his semble pouch. "Let's go see the main show," he suggested.
"Oh, I had wanted to see the sword-swallower first..." Zana muttered.
"Well, then let's go there first," Galen said indulgently, and tried to take a bite out of the sugary fluff. As long as they avoided the vendors...
He tagged along behind Zana as she went to see the sword-swallower, and The Ape With The Iron Hide who stood, sat, and lay down on a plank with hundreds of sharp nails (he invited everyone to feel how sharp and pointy they were for themselves, and after his demonstration, challenged the males in the audience to step forth and take a seat themselves — something nobody took him up for).
"How does he do it?" Zana wondered.
Galen shrugged. "Maybe he has unusually thick fur."
They went to see The World's Tiniest Circus next — that is, Zana went to look at it. When Galen learned that the circus was so tiny because its acrobats were fleas, he refused to set foot into the tent.
"Remember when we deloused those stray human cubs?" he complained. "I was itching for days!"
"Those were just nerves," Zana tried to assure him. "I never found a single lice or flea on you."
But Galen was implacable, and in the end, Zana went in alone. She was a bit disappointed when she came out again. "I didn't really see any fleas," she complained. "And they're not that tiny! I think it was all mechanical, with wound-up springs that made the tiny carriages move."
"I'm still not going in," Galen told her.
Zana waved him off. "It wasn't half as spectacular as I thought, anyway."
"Are you ready for Zolon's Wonder Show now?" Galen wanted to know. He actually wanted to go home, but best to get it all behind him in one go. Besides, there would be benches in the big tent.
"Well, there is the freak show," Zana said hesitantly. "I heard they have a giant ape, and a tiny one, and a human who has actual fur on her whole body, like an ape!"
"We could still look at them after the show." Galen tried not to sound desperate. "But I'm really curious about that wonder cure they're selling. It's the purpose behind all this," he swept his arm in a wide gesture, "glittery setup."
"Oh don't worry." Zana raised her brows. "I know full well that these vendors not just profit themselves from the stuff they're selling, but also lure people in, but I won't buy any miracle cures. I'm not that gullible."
"I never thought for a moment that you are," Galen said with a sigh. "But I'd really like to sit down for a while."
"Of course!" Zana shot him a guilty look. "Let's go, I think the next show begins in a few parseht ."
Amazingly, they didn't have to pay to enter the big tent — of course the great Heron didn't want to keep any prospective buyers out. Galen and Zana followed a short, stocky Chimp with a lamp through the dark, and squeezed through narrow rows of chairs until their usher gestured them to sit down.
"It's so far back, I worry if we'll even see anything," Zana muttered.
"At least we'll be close to the exit in case of fire," Galen joked.
"Kova!"
"Ah, sorry..." They'd also be close to the exit in case the Chimp's sales pitch would become too unbearably stupid, so Galen refused to feel actually sorry for his little joke.
It wasn't really his problem, he reminded himself. It was Egvon's problem, and didn't that serve the old baboon right — the good doctor had made it clear that he didn't consider Galen a real doctor, seeing how he was only treating humans and other livestock.
Galen decided to enjoy every last bit of Heron's and Zolon's performance, for having gotten Zana out of her shell, and for giving old Egvon a bit of a headache. He stuffed the bags with Zana's loot under his chair, settled back and folded his hands over his belly, and stared expectantly at the stage, which was barely visible in the low flicker of two small lights positioned at either end of the front edge.
The lights grew — Galen wondered how they did that — and a slow beat arose from a single drum somewhere in the darkness. An expectant hush fell over the audience, broken by the rustle of a single cornet of sweets.
A second drum joined the first, then a third, and more torches flared up, lighting a single, empty spot in the center of the stage. Just when Galen wondered how long they could manage to keep up the breathless, wordless tension, a voice pierced the drum-filled silence.
"All Hail the Mothers, who give life and good health to apekind and its servants!"
"Eternal gratitude to the Mothers," the audience murmured automatically. Even Zana whispered the words, but she had always been the more pious one.
"And when sickness befalls ape and animal, we turn to the good doctors, the faithful servants of the Mothers," the disembodied voice continued. "But if they fail? If they turn from their holy duty, and hide behind their books and their 'traditions'? Where do we turn to then? What can we do?"
Galen sighed. The faithful knew — or thought they knew — that the Mothers gave, and also took away both health and life. People were born, grew old, and died. And yes, sometimes they fell ill and died while quite young, and sometimes they had accidents that took them in their prime... but that was the way the world was made. There were no guarantees. Being born didn't entitle anyone to a long life full of health, or to a peaceful and painless death. No doctor could force the Mothers to give what they didn't want to give.
But of course it was easy to be philosophical about these things while one was still young and healthy oneself. If it was your spouse, or your child... or your life on the line, things looked quite different. People became desparate, and desparate people look for someone to save them... and for someone to blame.
Hiding behind their books and their crusty traditions. Well, of course the doctors would be the enemy.
The invisible storyteller had continued his tale during Galen's acerbic musings, telling the dramatic story of a young Orangutan taking care of his ailing mother, whose health deteriorated despite the efforts of the best doctors of Cesarea.
The young Orangutan, despairing over the cluelessness of the doctors, and the ever worsening health of his mother, finally left the 'world wisdom of the doctors' behind, as the voice put it; he went to study the old scrolls of the monks of every denomination instead, in search of ancient wisdom that would help his mother. He didn't find a cure, only herbal concoctions that at least alleviated her pain. But in the oldest scrolls, hidden in a chamber of the oldest monastery — a chamber forbidden for everyone except the highest members of the order — he did find hints of a fourth order... one that was exiled hundreds of years ago.
"Probably Koba's followers," Galen whispered sardonically.
"Shush," Zana whispered back; in the safety of darkness, Galen rolled his eyes.
"The young acolyte followed the hints in the scrolls to the edge of the Forbidden Zone, where he heard whispers of an order of ghostly monks..." The speaker made a dramatic pause, "... living inside the Forbidden Zone."
The audience gasped. Galen, having traveled through more than one Forbidden Zone, leaned forward to dig under his seat for the sugared almonds.
"Undeterred, the young acolyte travelled deep into the heart of the cursed land to find this secret order," the disembodied voice continued. "Carrying the memory of his dear mother in his heart, driven only by the desire to find a cure that would return her to life, health, and happiness, nothing would ever stop him on his quest!"
"Just like our Alan, don't you think?" Zana whispered.
Galen refrained from uttering a pointed remark about cursed human cities and the horrors Alan's obsession had woken up in one of them, and bit on an almond instead.
"Braving the unspeakable horrors of the Forbidden Zone, the young ape struggled ever onwards. Finally, his faith and perseverance were rewarded — after he almost perished in a deadly sand-storm, he was found and taken in by the members of the Forbidden Order. Many years, he studied their secrets. Many years, he trained with their masters. Then, finally..."
Something moved in the shadows behind the torches.
"... he was initiated into the deepest secret of the order — the secret of conquering any illness, any affliction, with an elixir whose formula the order had guarded jealously for centuries. But his victory demanded a steep price!"
The shadow stepped forward into the firelight. An Orangutan, huge for his kind, and...
... completely white.
This time, Zana gasped with the rest of the audience. Galen's hand stopped halfway to his mouth, the candied almond in his fingers forgotten.
The Orangutan surveyed the apes cowering in their seats without uttering a word. The firelight reflected in his red eyes, giving him a lightly demonic look.
Zolon the Monk was an albino.
Galen finally remembered his almond, but couldn't tear his eyes away from the ape on the stage as he licked off his sugar-coated fingertips. Fascinating! I wonder if they ever travel south of the mountains? The sun must wreak havoc on the poor guy. Where did this Heron person find him? He didn't believe for a moment that the Orang had ever been inside a Forbidden Zone, let alone studied with some secret order hiding inside it.
"Alas!" the hidden narrator shouted from the darkness. "The initiation ceremony and his exposure to the Forbidden Zone had drained his body of all color, and now the sunlight is painful to him!"
"So why didn't he cure himself with that wonder cure of his?" Galen murmured.
"This was the price he had to pay for this secret knowledge!" the voice informed him and the rest of the audience — whoever had thought up this legend had apparently foreseen the obvious question.
"This is the price they all had to pay! And all the other white monks were content to stay in the safety of their monastery; but not Zolon, the Shining Monk! He wanted to bring back the cure to ailing apekind!"
Zolon raised his hands, and now Galen saw that he was holding a vial in one hand, and a scroll — supposedly the scroll — in his other.
"His superior forbade him to leave, and so he fled in the night of the dark moon, back towards the lands of the living apes; but he almost perished in the scorching sun when the morning came," the speaker — by now, Galen suspected it was Heron, the other half of the duo — continued.
As if his last thought had conjured him, a Chimp joined Zolon in the circle of torchlight. "This was how I, a humble merchant, found this holy ape," he solemnly addressed his enraptured audience. More torches were lit; the albino squeezed his eyes shut, clearly disturbed by the light.
"I sheltered the suffering Zolon from the sun in my tented wagon," Heron intoned, ignoring his companion's discomfort, "and nursed him back to health. When he was recovered enough to share his incredible story, I immediately pledged myself to his service — and to the deliverance from pain, sickness, and old age for all apekind!"
Applause sounded from a far corner of the audience, and quickly spread through the whole tent. Heron held up his hands. "Unfortunately, my story doesn't end here," he cautioned.
"And here I'd hoped it finally would," Galen muttered, and shifted in his seat. It was hardwood, and his butt was beginning to hurt. Besides, he was getting hungry, and his stomach felt queasy from too much sugar.
"The doctors, envious of Master Zolon's superior wisdom, and the success of his elixir, banded together and went to the prefects to complain about us. Soon, we were thrown out of the cities and towns, threatened, our wagons burned down, our servants killed — all so we wouldn't heal any suffering apes —" Heron raised his brows meaningfully, "— any paying customers to the doctors."
A low murmur rose from the audience. "Has any of you ever had to pay for a doctor?" Heron cried into the noise. "Paid, and paid, and strangely not gotten better for months or even years? And those medicines that the good doctors prescribe aren't exactly cheap, are they?"
"Poor Egvon," Galen mused aloud. "He'll be lucky if people don't throw rotten apples at his door and demand their money back now."
"Oh yes, you are the very picture of compassion," Zana remarked.
"I'm just observing this ape's sales strategy," Galen said mildly, and began to tug at the strings of the bags that were piled up under his seat. "It's insidious, but highly effective, playing with people's stinginess and animosity..."
"So, although we could of course tell you that this elixir is completely safe for simian use, and is, in fact, highly effective against all kinds of afflictions, from headaches to sore throat, to indigestion... in fact, we have a sheet where over fifty illnesses are listed, with testimonies from apes who were cured... at present, we are only legally allowed to offer you this cure for your animals."
Galen froze.
"Thanks to the unique composition of the elixir, which is distilled from a blend of rare herbs, infused with a secret formula of gems and minerals, steeped in the water of a holy well, and, of course, energized by the blessing of Master Zolon, this cure is safe to give to any animal, be it your cow, your pig — even your piglets, you can give it to any animal right after birth without any risk, in fact, they will grow faster and be healthier than other young that have to go without it — your horse, your human, your chicken or goose... and of course we have written testimonials from farmers who have used our elixir with sensational success!"
Galen stared at the Chimp, who now leaned forward as if he wanted to take the whole crowd into his confidence. "Of course, if your ailing mother takes a sip from the bottle and feels all her aches and pains fall away like dead leaves, this is solely her own decision and responsibility." He winked, and Galen winced. "But remember, we only sell this for your animals, although it is a true cure-for-all. And tonight, every bottle is thirty percent off, only tonight, so don't hesitate to come forward and get yours!"
"Insidious, but highly effective," Zana said, as everyone jumped up from their seat and pushed towards the stage. There was not the slightest trace of irony in her voice. "You were absolutely right about that, Kova."
Galen sat glued to his seat, the bags underneath it forgotten.
He was absolutely certain that people would use the 'elixir' on themselves, and give Egvon a hard time, at least until their condition deteriorated to the point that they had to seek his help after all. On the other hand, some things got better on their own, and those would of course be ascribed to the success of the wonder cure. But he had been wrong to assume that this would only be Egvon's headache.
It would also be his.
By next morning, Galen had halfway succeeded in convincing himself that the Wonder Cure wouldn't be his headache, after all. Sure, people would buy it under the pretense that this crook Heron had given them, but they'd use it on themselves (and their mothers), after having read through and happily swallowed the claims of the fifty apes who had supposedly written their enthusiastic endorsements of the 'elixir'.
Well, maybe the more cautious ones would give it to their animals first, to see if any of them dropped dead after the first sip. But the lion's share would be for the masters of the household.
Poor Egvon. Galen was glad that this wasn't his problem to deal with.
He was making his rounds through the district today; the sky was gray and overcast, the wind pleasantly cool, and Prila had made him a sandwich and also put several slices of cake into his lunch bag. Since Peet wasn't riding with him anymore, he would even be able to enjoy them. Galen sat on his seat with a mug of hot tea from his thermos bottle in his hand (an ingenuous invention of the mountain settlers, who had to deal with the occasional cold weather spell), and felt vaguely hopeful that this day would be as calm as the dull sky above him.
His first patient was farmer Vorg's ox, that had injured its hoof on a sharp stone; Vorg had finally called the doctor when the wound had begun to fester and he had begun to worry about losing the animal. As always, treating a deep infection was much more difficult and time consuming, not to mention less certain to have a favorable outcome, than if Galen had been called while the injury was still fresh; but his services cost money which many farmers didn't have to spare, and so he never scolded them for not calling him sooner. He was glad that they accepted his help at all.
I used to be so bored with everything all the time, Galen mused, sipping his tea. If anyone had told me I'd be happy to clean out a stinking hoof, or deliver a calf in the middle of the night, I'd called him a nutcase. I'd have been bored by the mere prospect of having to do these things. What happened?
Well, maybe being chased by Urko straightened out one's priorities. It certainly had made Galen more appreciative of the simple joys of country life... even if it included hard work.
What a joke, he thought, that it should've been Urko who's made me a better ape...
On a whim, he decided to make a quick detour to farmer Durog when he came to the spot where the track branched off to the Gorilla's farm. Durog had promised him a discount on his ham, but after tasting Prila's kale soup, Galen had decided that he wanted to add some sausages to his order. Since the piglets were doing well now, he had no reason to drive out all the way to Durog's farm — better to seize the opportunity now, while he was in the neighbourhood.
Durog's wife pointed him to the pigsty, so Galen asked how the piglets were doing by way of greeting.
"They're doing fine!" The Gorilla proudly gestured at the litter that was busy digging in the straw for Mothers knew what. "I give them the Elixir now, so they grow even bigger than normal. More ham, you see?" he added when he noticed Galen's frown.
"Ah yes, the wonder cure," Galen murmured. Of course people would try it out on their animals first; he had forseen as much.
Still, he felt a bit put out. Weren't farmers supposed to be cautious and conservative, loathe to trying out new medicines and procedures? That had certainly be his experience with them so far!
"Are you certain it will do any good, though?" he asked. "After all, you have nothing but that merchant's word for it, and—"
"It's blessed by a monk!" Durog interrupted him with a fierce growl. "A holy ape! You're not calling a holy ape a quack, are ye?"
Galen held up his hands. "Of course not! Of course not. I, uh, I wish you a good day, Durog, and... good luck with those piglets!"
"Well, if it don't work out, I'll call you," Durog assured him, but Galen could see right through this clumsy attempt at soothing the cow doctor's ego.
Only when he was back on the dirt track did he remember the sausages.
Well. Maybe the ham would be big enough to make up for them. If Holy Zolon's Wonder Elixir worked as advertised. Best to weather this whole affair with a good sense of humor.
Galen's sense of humor wavered a short time later, when farmer Vorg's son told him not to bother climbing down from his doctor's wagon: they had wrapped the ox's hoof with Zolon's Elixir, and could already see how the beast was now putting more weight on the injured leg. Clearly, the cure was working more quickly than the good doctor, and was also cheaper, to boot!
Galen jerked at the reins, causing Ahpahchee to throw up his head in protest while he and Tala dragged the wagon around to face the dirt track again. "Well, change the dressing at least twice daily," he advised, "and don't hesitate to call me if it gets worse!"
He flicked the reins, maybe a bit more forcefully than intended, and the horses jumped on the dirt track, almost throwing him off the buckling seat.
The next two farms were repeats of that encounter: whatever ailment had befallen the farm animals, it was already on the mend thanks to the Elixir; one farmer had also taken a draw from the bottle himself, and reported feeling much more vigorous as a result.
"It's not approved for simian use," Galen pointed out.
"Ah, that's just because of them lawyers, see? I'm not telling anyone but you, doctor, and you won't tell a lawyer, will ya?" The farmer winked at him.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Galen said, and flicked the reins with utmost self-control.
The last homestead belonged to old Miss Vilma and her cats... or maybe it belonged to her cats who only tolerated her for feeding them. Miss Vilma hadn't given the Wonder Cure to her cats, but only because she was too old to make the journey to the medicine show, and thus had to rely on Galen's services, a fact which she vocally complained about to him.
"Can't you bring me a bottle or two when you come around next time?" She began to dig in the pouch of her apron. "I'll give you the money!"
"Ah, uh... "Galen hissed through clenched teeth, nursing his hand. Cornelia, a huge tabby with shredded ears, had scratched him when he had examined her leaky eye (the result of a recent fight over who was supreme matriarch in the cat equivalent of the Council). "I'm afraid the circus isn't on my route, and anyway, I wouldn't feel comfortable giving what little money you have to those people—"
"I'll lose less to them than what I lose to you, for all those medicines of yours..." Vilma said belligerently.
Galen had heard that argument one time too often today. "But at least you get actual medicine from me in exchange," he pointed out. "Not some colored water that does nothing except giving the poor beasts diarrhea!"
His hand was still burning from Cornelia's scratches when he arrived at Zaylissa's mansion back in Chubla. He'd have to wash them with some medicinal alcohol to prevent an infection as soon as he was home.
But first, he needed to attend to his last patient for today. Galen took some measured breaths and tried to relax the frown that had dug into his mien over the last few hours before he rang the bell. Neither Zaylissa nor Incan deserved to bear the brunt of his annoyance; it wasn't their fault that Chubla's farmers were gullible fools.
To his mild alarm, Zaylissa opened the door herself. Had there been yet another emergency? But the Orangutan didn't look panicked. In fact, she looked more... uncomfortable. "Oh. Doctor Kova."
Galen politely inclined his head. " Vetya Zaylissa. We had an appointment today, so I can see how Incan is doing."
The Orangutan cast down her eyes, but made no move to let him inside. "Oh. Oh yes, I remember." Then she straightened visibly and fixed him with a stern glare. "Doctor Kova, I have decided to terminate your medical attendance of my human. Please understand—" she added quickly when Galen opened his mouth, "it has nothing to do with your expertise, which is beyond reproach! It's just that I have... I've found an alternative treatment—"
"It's that wonder elixir nonsense, isn't it?" Galen sighed exasperately. Zaylissa flinched, and he held up his hands placatingly, although inside, he was seething.
"You cannot be serious," he added, forcing himself to talk quietly. He could hear his voice waver with the effort. "This is a scam, nothing but scented water packaged in fancy bottles and an outrageous story! Not to mention the even more outrageous — and completely unsubstantiated — referrals claiming that it cures everything from the common cold to a failing heart! That crook Heron probably wrote all of those letters himself!"
For a tiny moment, Galen thought he could detect a flicker of doubt in Zaylissa's eyes; he pressed on, trying to harness this spark of common sense in the matron. "Do you really want to risk your financial investment by treating your breeding human with an unknown substance?" Zana would've given him an earful for framing his question that way, but Zaylissa had different priorities, and if he wanted to convince her, he'd have to appeal to her way of—
"But Zolon is a monk!" Zaylissa protested, and Galen closed his eyes in despair.
"Is he?" he asked when he was certain of keeping his voice under control again. "Or is that yet another unproven claim?"
"Well, he is an Orangutan," Zaylissa snapped. "Or do you want to call that into doubt, too?"
There were a number of answers to that hovering on Galen's tongue, but he had an inkling that Zaylissa was going to divert this debate to the color of Zolon's fur, and he had neither the patience nor enough self-control left to be dragged around in circles.
He bowed. "If you feel at any time that Incan would need my help, please do not hesitate to call me. I wish you an agreeable evening, vetya." He turned without waiting for an reaction; he certainly didn't expect a farewell from the matron, but it still added some fuel to his anger when he heard the door clap.
Well, at least this had been his last patient for today. And if this day was any indication, his practice would be empty tomorrow. I guess I'll just read up on suture techniques a bit...
His attempt at self-diversion failed miserably; all the way home, and all throughout rubbing the horses down and feeding them (and wishing again for Peet to be here and take care of the cantankerous Ahpahchee), Galen turned the events of the day over and over in his mind, and with every turn, he got more infuriated, until he was almost tempted to saddle Tala and ride out again to set some heads straight, starting with the head of farmer Durog.
His better judgment — as well as his tired legs and his rumbling stomach — advised him against such a foolish plan, and so he contended himself with stomping over to the main house and shutting the door more forcefully than usual.
Prila poked her head out of the kitchen door at that, as Galen had secretly hoped. "How was your day, doctor?" She glanced at his expression. "I've made a pudding for dessert." She vanished into the kitchen again.
Galen proceeded to the living room, undediced whether he should hope for Zana to be there or not.
Zana was not there. Galen decided that he needed a cup of steaming hot and tar-black tea, the kind his mother had hated, and went back to the kitchen. "Have you seen my wife?"
"She came home early, and went straight to her room," Prila said, rattling the pan and studiously staring at its contents. "She hasn't come out since."
Her day must've been as disagreeable as his had been, Galen concluded. Then he shook his head. No — nobody's day could've been as infuriating as his had been! Still, maybe he should go up to her and ask her about it...
But he was too tired to offer more than nods and sympathetic noises, and too riled up to be able to keep his mouth shut about his own anger, and Zana , on the other hand, would be too depressed to even nod and make sympathetic noises to his account of the day, and oh, it was all too bothersome! Neither of them had any capacity for the other's troubles today, Galen was pretty sure about that.
"Whatever it is you're cooking, it smells delicious, Prila," he said. "I'll be in the living room, if Mila wants to join me for dinner."
"I'll tell her," his housekeeper said. "But what if she doesn't?"
"Then I'll still be there to appreciate your pudding." And that would hopefully be enough to soothe his mood.
A full meal — including two servings of Prila's pudding — and a sleepless night later, Galen's mood was still not soothed. He had argued with farmer Durog, farmer Vorg, with old Vilma, and most of the night, with stupid, stubborn Zaylissa, finally thinking of all the snappy comebacks and arguments that had escaped him during the day.
At least Zana was downstairs to join him for breakfast. She glanced at his face and raised her brows. "Did you sleep well, dear?"
"Unfortunately not," Galen mumbled, but didn't elaborate. "How was your day at the shelter yesterday?"
This time, his diversion tactic worked. "Frustrating," Zana growled. "That 'special assignment' I volunteered for is giving me a headache! He's so incredibly shy, I don't think anyone there ever tried to win his trust. Of course, the fact that the shelter didn't even bother with naming him is telling so much about how they see him... or don't see him, at all..."
One of the few saving graces of a sleepless night was that it shut up one's brain. Galen simply didn't have the energy to muster any outrage, or formulate a string of thoughts, or focus on the conversation. But that wasn't a problem, as long as he kept nodding, and made inarticulate but sympathetic noises now and then—
"Did you listen to a single word I said, Kova?"
Galen blinked and sat up straighter. "Of course, love!"
Zala inclined her head and gave him a Look. "What's bothering you?"
She didn't seem to be too upset, Galen noted hopefully. More... intrigued.
"That Mothers-cursed Wonder Cure!" he blurted out. "Everyone thinks they can save money, because now they don't have to pay the doctor anymore! They have Heron and Zolon's Elixir that cures all ailments on their shelf!"
"They'll see through the scam quickly enough," Zana tried to placate him. "Then they'll be happy to call you for help again."
"And what if I can't help their animals anymore by that point?" Galen wanted to know. "What if that infected udder, or that leaky eye, or the lung congestion has progressed too far?"
"Well, then... then you must go to Chief Voltis, and tell him to throw those apes out of town, or even ban them from the district!" Zana stabbed her fork at him for emphasis.
"He'll just tell me that people need to bear the consequences of their own foolishness," Galen waved her off. "I don't think that Voltis cares much about animal welfare."
"Probably not... then you need to argue for something he does care about," Zana mused. "It can't be in his best interest to let these people ruin the farmers' livestock. If they lose their cattle, they'll have to give up their farms: not only will that have dire consequences for Chubla's food supply, they also won't be paying any taxes anymore!"
"I should send you to Voltis," Galen sighed, and he meant it — ever since that debacle with Alan, and especially after the battle at Sultok, he had made sure to be as invisible to the district chief as possible. He still wasn't sure whether Voltis had seen through his cover story, or detected something amiss with his forged papers, and he didn't want to give the keen-eyed Chimp any reason to look more closely into the background of Chubla's newest residents. "You can think of the best arguments on the spot."
"Oh, don't hide your light under a bushel." Zana said, a bit impatiently. "You convinced him to give up his claim on Alan, after all. I don't have time for waiting in Voltis anteroom for hours anyway," she added before Galen could point out that it had been Ennis, the chief's son, who had released Alan back into their hands, "I'll be at the shelter all day, trying to convince this very wary human that he can trust me."
"Wish me luck, then," Galen muttered and poured himself another cup of tea. He was in no hurry to start his day — he wouldn't have any patients to worry about, and didn't look forward to his own turn of waiting in Voltis' antechamber. "I won't wish you luck, because I know you won't need it. You'll wear this human down in no time."
"I choose to take this as a compliment," Zana said over her shoulder.
Galen bowed in his seat. "Of course it was meant as one."
"Just don't try to be cute like this when you talk to Voltis," and with this dire warning, she was out of the door, her mind clearly on her own challenges, which seemed to be far more enjoyable to Galen than his own predicament.
Two cups of tea later, Galen finally found the resolve to rise from the table, too — for one thing, too much tea was exciting his bladder, and for another, it had occurred to him that Voltis would probably find it more noticeable if his chief veterinarian didn't bring this matter to his attention. Not that Chief Voltis wouldn't already be aware of said matter, but that wasn't the point. With a deep sigh, Galen chose his best robe and gave his beard another thorough brushing to make sure no stray crumbs would distract Voltis' attention from what he'd have to say.
He instructed Prila to keep the door of the practice closed until his return and to send any patients' owners to the healers in the meantime, then began to rehearse his reasoning in his mind as he reluctantly walked towards the front door. Zana was probably right to approach this from the financial angle; the lands north of the mountains were struggling to produce enough food for their own population, and relied to a considerable extent on goods from the South, in exchange for ore from their mines—
The Chimp hovering on his doorstep pushed his arms out and grabbed Galen's shoulders to prevent him from walking smack into him. "Apologies, apologies, my fault, my fault completely..."
"I'm sorry," Galen gently extricated himself from the ape's grip, his concentration utterly broken. "The practice is closed today. If you have a sick human, you need to see the humans' healer, Laisa—"
"No, no, no, no. No. Uhm. No, I'm not here for treatment." The Chimp bent down to scoop up several scrolls that he had dropped when he had grabbed Galen. He straightened with a small cough, still standing slightly hunched over, the way very tall people tend to do; even so, Galen noticed, he was still a head taller than him.
"Apologies for so rudely obstructing your path, vetes..." The Chimp thrust out his hand in greeting, but snatched it back before Galen could react to save several scrolls from tumbling to the ground again. On the second attempt, the hand was snatched back to push up his glasses that threatened to slide off his nose and follow the scrolls that now escaped.
Galen retrieved them, caught between amusement and irritation. "How can I help you, then?" He handed the scrolls to the ape, who managed to keep all of them clutched to his chest this time. "No, don't try to shake hands, it's not necessary!"
"As you wish, vetes, thank you, vetes." The ape's nose twitched, trying to transport the glasses back up the bridge of the nose without the help of the hands. "My name is Hamez, I recently graduated from Cesar's College of Veterinary Medicine, and I—"
"I'm not taking any apprentices at the moment," Galen interjected quickly.
"Oh." The Chimp's face fell; it was a rather long face, reminding Galen of that of a baboon, although the rest of the young Chimp's appearance emanated nothing of the associated brutishness. In fact, he looked like the caricature of a scholar — spindly thin from investing all his sembles in scrolls instead of meals, ruining his eyesight by sticking his nose into said scrolls day and night, and only wearing a threadbare and much too big robe that hung from him like a scarecrow's rag because they wouldn't have let him enter the campus grounds in his birthday suit.
He was exactly the kind of student Ango's crowd had loved to play pranks on. He probably knows more about medicine than I ever learned either in Cesarea or here, and I was already considered a 'fartybrain' by Ango's friends. There were only two kinds of people in their eyes, 'partybrains' and 'fartybrains', and the fellow standing in front of him had probably suffered dearly for being the latter.
Galen allowed himself tiny sigh.
"I'm on my way to an important appointment," he said, "but I'm willing to, uh, have a look at your qualifications when I come back." He held up a hand when the Chimp — Hamez, wasn't it? — beamed. "I said I'm not taking on apprentices, but, uhm, maybe I can write you a letter of recommendation. There are a number of veterinarians in the neighbouring prefectures..."
He had led the young Chimp into the waiting room of the practice while he talked. "It could be a while before I'm back," he warned him. "If you need anything, Prila, my housekeeper, is around here somewhere. She'll probably say hello as soon as I'm out of the door."
The Chimp folded himself on one of the chairs and began to restack the scrolls on his lap. "No worries, vetes, no worries, I'm fine, completely fine to wait here for your return!"
Galen nodded, suddenly unsure whether it had been a good idea to let this stranger wait inside his practice. "Fine... we'll talk later, then."
As soon as he was out of the house, though, he forgot about the young scholar as his thoughts turned to his impending encounter with Chief Voltis. The last time they had seen each other had been in the smoke of the battle of Sultok, and Voltis had made no secret of his displeasure at seeing him there. Galen hoped that no such feelings were still lingering; it was useless to hope the gaunt Chimp might have forgotten completely about his existence in the meantime.
He was made to wait in the antechamber of Voltis' office, as Zana had predicted, but if you didn't have an appointment, that was to be expected. In fact, Galen had half hoped to be sent home with an appointment several weeks off, but since Voltis doubtlessly knew about the Wonder Cure by now, he'd put two and two together when his veterinarian appeared on his doorstep the very next day.
Galen sighed deeply and sat down on the single wooden chair. It had no pillow, which he was sure was on purpose, just as he suspected that Voltis was making him wait on purpose.
The District Chief made him wait just long enough for his butt cheeks starting to ache before he called him in, and then made him wait again while he was writing something important on a scroll. Once again, Galen was undecided whether he should give in to his growing irritation, or to his amusement, as his upbringing had of course familiarized him with these tactics from an early age. In the end, he decided to give in to neither, and to focus on the matter at hand instead.
To his credit, Voltis listened intently to his complaints. When Galen was finished, the chief leaned back in his seat, and for long moments, both Chimps sat in silence.
"While I sympathize with your distress, doctor," Voltis finally said, "I don't see how I can help you in this matter. Every adult ape can do with their money as they please — throw it away, burn it, float it down the river, buy bottles of Wonder Cure — and what they do with their property is also none of my business."
"They're delaying necessary treatments, and maybe actively harm their animals," Galen protested.
"I understand that this upsets you, doctor, and you'd be a shoddy doctor if it didn't. But Heron has filled out all necessary forms, has paid the fee for making camp at the river, and his, ah, artists , are adhering to every rule the law demands. My hands are tied in this matter. If it's any consolation," the district chief added when Galen opened his mouth, "they'll only stay for another week."
"A lot of damage can be done in a week," Galen muttered.
Voltis spread his hands in silent acknowledgment. "As I said, I can't do anything as long as they stay within the law."
"How can they be firmly within the law if they sell useless scented water as potent medicine?" Galen's nose twitched uncontrollably. "Isn't that fraud, and isn't fraud illegal?"
Voltis rubbed his beard as he stared at Galen, and Galen suppressed yet again the suspicion that the chief knew about the forged doctor's seal, and everything else connected to the identity of 'Doctor Kova'.
After a long, uncomfortable moment, Voltis decided to release him from his scrutinity. "Can you prove that their medicine is completely ineffective?" He smiled thinly when Galen just gaped at him. "If you can prove it, without a doubt, then I could persuade them to break camp prematurely to avoid legal repercussions. But I'd need a solid cause; your indignation alone won't suffice to make me bring charges against the honorable gentlemen Heron and Zolon."
"If I can..." Galen paused; Voltis was still smiling.
"Feel free to rally other interested parties to your cause — how about doctor Egvon, for example?"
Galen sighed. "Doctor Egvon will be pleased to let this be my problem, and my problem alone." Not only is this not Egvon's problem, he realized, I've just been drafted as Voltis' special investigator.
He should probably take solace in the realization that Voltis was just as interested in getting rid of the crooks as he was, but right now, all Galen could do was to fight down any outward expression of his exasperation. Why can't I shake the feeling that I've just played into this ape's hands? Again?
The image of the girl Incan emerged unbidden in his mind, her pregnant belly huge in contrast to her emaciated body, and on the heels of that memory, images of Ramor, and then of Alan, and although Galen knew without a doubt that Alan hadn't — couldn't have — sired Incan's baby, his heart insisted that he had to protect this little one and its mother, not only because he felt bound to a healer's vow he hadn't even made, but, somehow, for Alan's sake, too.
He straightened in his seat with a determined sniff. "Fine," he said, "I'll bring you proof."
Voltis' eyes lit up with sardonic glee. "I'm looking forward to your report, Kova." He reached for another scroll. "Don't let me keep you, doctor," he said, his eyes already on the scroll, "I'm sure this investigation of yours will be rather involved. Better to not lose any time, if you want to catch them before they break camp anyway."
He knows, Galen thought as he rose and bowed before making his exit. He knows, and now he's amusing himself by letting a fraud catch another fraud...
Why does he keep playing along?