Scattered Remains

Part 2

by Theresa

The first stroke of Odiah’s whip caught Burke mid-spine with a force so powerful that his unprepared body was slammed into the rough tree stump.  The stinging blow tore into his smooth skin, snatching his breath away.  The whip’s tendrils curved around to his side and exposed stomach in an obscene embrace.  He bit his lip to keep from crying out and tasted blood.  They could whip him, but as long as he could stand it, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of letting them know they were hurting him … not while Virdon stood only a few feet away.  He knew that his every reaction was being viewed and registered by his friend.  He also knew that Virdon was in as much, if not more, danger than he, because Alan would be driven to attack without thinking of the consequences.  And the apes would react -- also without thinking -- and Virdon could end up dead.

Burke swallowed and shored up his self-control.  “One down, twenty-nine to go,” he whispered. 

 Before he could catch his breath, the lash struck him a second, then a third and fourth time.  By the eleventh stroke, he couldn’t hold back a whimper; the fourteenth wrung an involuntary cry from his lips.

“Stop it!  That’s enough!  You’re going to kill him!”

 There was a sudden lull in the steady fall of the lash.  Through a haze of constant, roller-coaster pain, Burke heard Odiah swear under his breath and then the sounds of a scuffle.

“Pete … hold on …”

 Alan’s voice … muffled … strangled … almost as though someone was holding a gag over his friend’s mouth.  He struggled to comprehend another sound, something hard impacting with another equally hard object, but then he heard the barn door creak open and bang shut with a finality that made him shiver.

 “Continue, Odiah.  There will be no further interruptions,” he heard Gunter say, and the stout chimpanzee followed his commander’s instructions with a vengeance.

 Numbers fifteen and sixteen fell lower than the others, striking sharply on Burke’s covered buttocks and giving his screaming back another brief respite, but seventeen was dead center again.  He arched defenselessly against the blow, trying without success to fold his body backwards as a shield against further strokes.  With Virdon no longer an unwilling audience, Burke didn’t care if the apes knew they were hurting him; they were, and he let his cries of pain fall unrestrained.

By the twenty-third stroke, his surroundings began to swim nauseatingly in front of him.  His bladder released, but he took no notice and felt no shame.

Number twenty-four struck fiercely, and he finally collapsed, sagging limply from the bonds holding his numb hands.  Reality tilted crazily, looming in and out of focus.  And then the torment stopped abruptly, and everything went berserk.

 Whoomph!  Gurgle!  Whoomph!  Wheeze!

 The strange noises registered in his inner consciousness, but the dreamlike haze of outside pain kept his mind clouded and unable to interpret the sounds.

 He hard another spine-tingling scream, followed by another Whoomph!  A strangled gurgle and, suddenly he was free and falling.  His already scraped and bleeding face crashed into the courtyard dirt, and he moaned, vaguely surprised that anything so minor could cause such agony.  Turning his head sideways ground the abrasive dirt deeper into his wounds, but self-preservation forced the attempt to move.  Blood and sand combined, effectively clogging his nostrils and mouth and preventing him from taking a full breath.  He coughed, then lay back, gasping.  It was then that he saw the gorilla.

 Only inches away, Gunter’s severed head lay in the dirt, the ape’s lifeless black eyes mirroring the disbelief and abject horror of his own death.

 Paralyzed with fear, Burke choked on the scream that rose in his throat, and then Gunter and the rest of the world went far, far away.

  Virdon came to abruptly with a crystal clear awareness of where and why he was where he was.  Remembering how he had got there, however, took several minutes, for his head pounded with a vengeful fury, and his stomach threatened to spill its contents with every tiny movement on his part.  It took several aborted tries, but he finally managed to maneuver himself into a shaky sitting position.  Glancing around the interior of the barn, he absently brushed at the hay and dust that clung stubbornly to his clothing and fair hair.  He gasped as his grooming efforts accidentally pressed a tender spot at the base of his skull.  Closer inspection revealed a golf ball-sized lump that throbbed beneath his fingers and intensified the pain already blazing through his skull.

 He paused for a moment, waiting until the blinding headache eased to a more tolerable level, then pushed himself unsteadily to his feet.  Staggering out the door, he emerged into the incongruous beauty of the early autumn evening.

 Scanning the deserted courtyard, he searched vainly for any sign of life, but there was none.  The only movement he could discern was the dancing ends of Burke’s tether swaying in the breeze, mute testimony to what had occurred there.

 When his search of the courtyard and surrounding grounds yielded no other living being, he moved determinedly toward the greathouse and burst into the front room.  It, too, seemed devoid of life, both human and ape and, undecided on where to go next, he simply stood in the middle of the parlor and waited for his head to clear again.  After several moments, a noise from the second floor spurred him to vault the stairs, and he bounded them, taking two and three at a time.  He emerged at the top of the staircase just in time to see a shadowed figure of a man appear in the doorway of the bedroom he and Pete shared.

“Alan!  Thank God!  I was just on my way to check on you,” John said, grabbing Virdon’s arm and pulling him into the bedroom.  “Hurry, we need your help.”

 Alan had known that Burke was grievously injured, but nothing could have prepared him for the grisly scene that met him when he followed John into the room.

 Still clothed only in the stained, tattered remains of his gray trousers, Pete sprawled on his back in the middle of the bed, semi-conscious and virtually covered from head to toe with dirt and drying blood.  Angus sat on the opposite side; tediously working out the taut knots in a cord that still encircled one of Burke’s swollen wrists.

 Hesitating only long enough to get a firm grip on his still queasy stomach, Virdon went immediately to Burke and began to prioritize his actions.

 “Got it … finally!” he heard Angus proclaim as his own fingers gripped Pete’s cold chin, the only unscathed part of his friend’s grimy face, and gently turned it toward him.  He winced at the scraped cheek and blood-caked nostrils.  Burke’s brown eyes were slightly open, but neither focused nor followed with the movement.

 Alan hunched closer, trying to put himself into Burke’s direct line of vision, but his “Pete?  Can you hear me?” evoked no response.

 “He looks awake, Alan, but he’s not really here with us,” John said from the doorway, and Virdon turned his head toward the man momentarily, then almost immediately returned his gaze and attention back to his injured friend.

  “Help me turn him on his side, Angus.  He shouldn’t be lying flat on his injured back like that,” he said, balancing one knee on the bed and reaching out to grasp Burke’s farthest shoulder.  “Damn, he’s cold as ice.  John, throw some wood on that fire and get this room warmed up.  He’s too hurt to bundle up right now, so we’re going to have to turn this room into an oven.”

 John obeyed, tossing several large, dry logs into the sickly fire and stoking it into a hot blaze.

  On the other side of the bed, Angus threw the liberated cord to the floor distastefully, then aided Virdon in pulling the young astronaut over.

Pete reacted to the movement with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, followed by a long, shuddering moan.

  “Easy … easy, Pete.  I’m here with you,” Alan whispered soothingly to his friend, but his calm tone masked the rising panic gripping his insides.  He peered over the dark-haired man’s body, striving to examine the damage done by Odiah’s whip, but Angus’s expression of disgust already showed the deplorable condition of his friend’s back.  “Where the hell is everyone?” Alan said, his voice intensifying, keeping pace with his steadily growing concern for Burke.

 An anxious look passed between the brothers-in-law, and John shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

 “Papa and the others have gone to escort the apes to the northern border.  Virgil gave strict instructions for everyone else to stay inside their homes with their families until he returned,” Angus finally said.

 “That’s fine and dandy for him, but Pete needs immediate attention.  “Where are the others?  Arvid and Charlie …”

 Angus put out a sympathetic hand and laid it on Virdon’s rigid shoulder.  “They’ll return shortly, Alan.  John and I were ordered to bring Pete here, untie him, and make him comfortable until Mama and Arvid could get here.  And when you regained consciousness, we were to see to your needs also.”  The overseer’s son dropped his eyes guiltily.  “I’m sorry I had to hit you, but if I hadn’t, Gunter would surely have done worse.”

 “I’m grateful to you,” Virdon snapped sarcastically, then, as his friend continued to stare miserably at the floor, Alan regretted his outburst.  “I’m sorry, Angus.  I didn’t mean to take my anger and worry out on you,” he said remorsefully, “… it’s just that … Pete’s been through so much already and …”

 “I understand, Alan,” the assistant overseer interrupted.  He hooked a straying strand of long blond hair behind his ear.  “What can we do to help you?”

 Alan pondered the situation for a moment, then seemed to come to a decision.  “Well, he said, “the balls on our turf right now, and it looks like it’s up to us to run with it.”  He pulled up suddenly, realizing how like Peter Burke the words sounded to his own ears.  He sighed sorrowfully, then rifled through his memory for recollections of the first aid classes he and Burke had attended as part of their astronaut training eons ago.

  “Okay,” he said, “the most important thing we can do right now is get his body temperature up and clean the wounds.  Without antibiotics, we can’t take a chance on infection setting in.”  He turned back to Angus.  “Does Charlie keep any alcohol around?”

 “Alcohol?”

 “A clear liquid that stings when you put it on an open wound. “

 “I don’t know … wait a minute … yes, now that I think about it, I do seem to recall her using something like that on the children’s scrapes.   Charlie keeps her medicines and instruments in a small bag behind her sewing basket.  I’ll run down and get it.”

 “What can I do to help, Alan?” John asked anxiously.

  “I’ll need a basin of water, several clean cloths, and something to make bandages out of.  Make that very warm water, John,” Alan said as an afterthought.

 When both men had departed, Virdon turned back to Pete and made a clumsy, unsuccessful attempt with his large hands to rip the stiffening trouser material away from the clotting bullet wound.  His efforts only succeeded in putting unexpected pressure on the injury, wringing a hoarse yelp of protest from Burke.

“I’m sorry … I’m sorry, Pete.  I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Alan said, frantically apologetic.  “I’ve got to get a better view at this, so bear with me for a minute, okay?”

 “No more …”  The mumbled plea trailed off into another soft moan.

 Virdon’s knife sliced effortlessly through the strong, hand-woven material of the gray trousers.  The separated parts, from the hem at Burke’s ankle all the way up to his waistband, yielded to the sharp edge and fell away from Pete’s body.

 Alan stared at the ugly, puckered hole in his friend’s leg.  Located on the side, midway between Pete’s hip and knee, the wound was already ominously red and inflamed.  The only encouraging sign, Virdon thought to himself, was that it was no longer bleeding.

 Alan pressed gently around the sides of the wound, carefully kneading the flesh for the telltale lump that would signal the bullet’s location, but his examination revealed nothing.  His hands encircled the thigh, delicately probing for an exit hole, but again, the search proved fruitless.  His hopes that the bullet had somehow, miraculously, exited from Pete’s body were shattered.  It was still inside the thigh and pinpointing its location and removing it wasn’t something he looked forward to.

 “Angus, while you’re downstairs, would you put a large pot of water on to boil and throw several short kitchen knives in.  Make sure they’re pointed and only get the ones that are extremely sharp,” he said loudly enough to be heard by the assistant overseer in the kitchen.  He waited for the reply.

  When he had heard an affirmative answer from downstairs, he sagged forlornly beside Burke.  The knowledge of what had to be done filled him with dread, and he rested his forehead dejectedly in the palms of his hands.  Moving them in a steady, circular motion, he rubbed hard at the nagging ache at his temples, fervently wishing that Charlie would arrive and save him from the unpleasant task at hand.

 But he knew that every minute that passed left Pete’s body vulnerable to infection, and penicillin was nonexistent in this new world … unless Charlie had found a way to miraculously grow it.

 Alan let go with an ironic snort.  It was a ridiculous notion.  Besides, even if Charlie had, by some genius, created a mutant strain of the wonder drug, it wouldn’t help his friend.  Peter Burke had two allergies annotated on his medical files at Eglin Air Force Base back in the 1980s:  one was codeine, the other penicillin.

 Sighing, Virdon reached out and took one of Pete’s dirty, swollen hands into his own.  Shaking his head, he bit back the threatening flood of emotion.  “This isn’t going to be fun for either one of us, my friend,” he said.  “I know why you did this, but I just can’t for the life of me figure out what made you do it now!  That damned disk had been there for nearly half a centur6y.  You didn’t have to risk your life to get it for me.  In another day or tow we both could’ve gone there, and no one would ever have known …”

 Footsteps resounded on the wooden staircase; Angus and John were returning with the equipment to treat Burke.  Alan tightened the tenuous grip he held on his emotions.  This was neither the time nor the place to break down.  Burke needed someone with a clear head and steady hands to get him through the upcoming ordeal.  Later, after Pete was out of danger, there would be plenty of time and solitude to vent his grief and anger.

 Sighing, the blond astronaut replaced his friend’s hand back on the bed and waited for the two men to rejoin him.  The footsteps stopped near the door entrance, but no one entered.

 “John?  Angus?”

When his inquiry went unanswered, Alan stood and moved stealthily from the bed toward the door.  Just as he reached the threshold, Trina stepped forward.

 The girl refused to look up.  She stared determinedly at the floor.  “It’s just me, Alan.  I’ve … I’ve brought you something.  Pete gave these to me.  He wanted you to have them …”

 Alan took the tiny disk and even smaller computer card.  He said nothing.  His anger and resentment at Trina were still at a high level, and he didn’t trust himself to reply.

Trina sniffed and took a trembling breath.  She lifted her red-rimmed eyes.  “Is he … going to die?”

 “I don’t think so.”

Trina appeared relieved.  “Can I see him … just for a minute?”

 Afraid to let himself speak again, Virdon merely nodded and stepped aside.  As he headed toward the chiffonier, he heard a loud gasp as the girl got her first good look at Burke.  He deposited the high-priced disk in the top drawer, then turned back to view the scene.

 Trina was on her knees by the bed, sobbing heartbrokenly and gently stroking one of Burke’s abused hands.  “… sorry … I’m so sorry!  Forgive me … please …”

“Trina!  Get out of here now!” Angus suddenly ordered from the doorway.  “You’ve done quite enough to Pete and Alan already.  I believe both men can do without your presence for a while.”

 At this, the girl sobbed louder.  Humiliated, she stood and ran blindly from the room, almost colliding with Charlie and Arvid as they arrived on the scene.

“Thank God, you’re here,” Alan said to the women as his knees went suddenly weak with relief.

 The overseer’s wife said nothing but went straight to Burke.  She checked his skin temperature, glanced approvingly at the blazing fire, then turned her attentions to the younger man’s back and leg.  Pressing her hands to Burke’s thigh wound, she clucked her tongue worriedly.  “Has he been conscious at all?” she asked, moving to the opposing side of the bed to again view Pete’s abused back.

 “No, Mama,” Angus replied.  “He only seems to react to pain. He doesn’t speak or answer questions.”

 “His body is much too cold,” she said to herself.  “Even with the fire heating the room, we must do more.  John,” she looked up at her tall son-in-law.  “I need you to go fill the bathtub with very warm water.”  Holing out her hand for the medicine bag, Angus relinquished it, and she pulled a large container out.  “Take this,” she said, handing over the bottle to John, “and put about half of it into the water.  Make certain there are plenty of towels available!  Then hurry back, I’ll need you to help carry him to the tub.”

 “Yes, Mama Charlie,” the man said and departed quickly.

 “Arvid, you prepare the bed.  Add several more blankets and quilts, then pad and protect the top layer for treatment, and don’t tuck the edges in.  They’ll need to be ready for a quick removal when we’re finished.  He really shouldn’t be moved any more than absolutely necessary.  I want the bed and my instruments ready for immediate use as soon as we get back with him,” the old woman ordered.  She turned her attentions back to Pete but addressed her only son.  “Angus!”

“Yes, Mama.  What do you need me to do?”

 Charlie eased the soiled remains of Burke’s trousers from his limp body.  The injured man reacted to this new disturbance with a silent grimace.

 “You will find Trina and apologize to her,” she ordered, wadding the filthy rags into a ball and tossing them purposefully across the room.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, Angus,” she said testily to her son, then turned to Virdon.  “Help me get these off him, Alan,” she instructed, struggling to remove the remaining briefs.  “Your daughter is very young, son,” she continued speaking to Angus as she and Virdon stripped the final article of clothing from Burke’s body.

 Throwing a ragged towel over the injured man’s hips, Charlie continued.  “And she made an error in judgment.  She can be made to face that mistake if you talk to her and make her understand that every human being blunders on occasion.  Unfortunately, innocent people sometimes get hurt because of another’s wrong decision.  If Pete gets well, your daughter will remember that you understood and comforted her.  If you don’t go to her now, and if Pete should …” the old woman looked up at Alan, then back to Angus, “… if the young man should die, then the guilt she feels right now could destroy her, and we could lose both of them.  Go to your daughter, Angus. We don’t need you here.”

   “Yes, Mama,” Angus said.  He tossed a sympathetic look toward Pete, turned a grim expression to Alan, then walked steadfastly from the room.

  “Mama, the water’s almost ready.”

“Thank you, John,” Charlie said.  “Now help Alan carry Pete to the tub, and be prepared.  His reactions to the medicated water may be violent.”  She walked toward a puzzled Virdon.  “Taking his large hands into her own small ones, Charlie looked compassionately into the tall astronaut’s blue eyes.  “Alan, I must treat the hypothermia and potential infection first.  It would take over an hour of agonizing torture to bathe your friend here, so complete immersion will be easier on us and more humane for him, but I must be truthful with you.  Pete is badly injured.  There may even be internal injuries to his kidneys or spine.  The animal who beat him concentrated most of the blows to the middle of his back, but we won’t know for sure if there’s damage for several more days.  We’ll monitor him closely for symptoms.  The superficial wounds to his body, the cuts and scrapes aren’t serious, and I think they will heal if we keep them clean and medicated.  Right now though, I’m worried about his leg.  I’ve treated wounds of this type before, an d I’m afraid the bullet was hot when it pierced his skin.”

 “Why is that bad?” Alan asked.  “Wouldn’t the heat make infection less likely?”

“In most cases, yes.  The heat of the bullet would cauterize and cleanse bacteria from the wound and further bleeding would normally remove any foreign matter present, prevention infection.  Unfortunately, Pete’s wound stopped bleeding long before he fell into the courtyard dirt, and I don’t have to tell you what kind of poisons are present in that particular soil.  However, getting back to the bullet, when soft metal enters the body hot, it can stick to bone or muscle or flesh.  I believe from my examination that this bullet flattened on impact and is now attached to your friend’s femur.  Getting it out,” she looked pointedly at Pete, then back to Virdon, “… well, let’s just say it’s not going to be a pleasant experience for any of us.”

 Virdon looked at Burke’s colorless face, and his brow furrowed.  “He doesn’t look like he can take too much more right now, Charlie.  What’s the worst that could happen if we left the bullet alone?”

 Virgil’s wife appeared thoughtful.  Finally, “I don’t know.  Perhaps nothing … and then again, he could get blood poisoning or an infection, neither of which we have a cure for, and he could die.  Or the infection could develop into gangrene, and then we’d be forced to remove the leg.”

 Alan stared long and hard at Burke once more, then turned back to Charlie again.  “And if we go ahead and remove it now?” he said in a quiet voice.

  “We could break or splinter the bone, possibly crippling him for life, or we could damage an artery, and he could bleed to death.  And we will have to cauterize the wound.  It’s already showing signs of infection.  I’m sorry.”  The old woman paused to let her words sink in.  Then, “He’s your friend, Alan.  You make the decision.”

 Virdon hesitated for only a moment.  “Let’s take it out.”

 There was so much noise in the stadium he could barely hear himself think.  Everybody … the crowd of spectators, all the players, the sideline crew … were standing and screaming at him.  He was on the 45-yard line; it was fourth down with less than 10 seconds to go in the fourth quarter; Michigan was behind by three; and he had just caught a ‘Hail Mary’ pass.  He hunched over, tucking the precious pigskin under his elbow, and started toward the goal line.  Fifty-five yards, and he would win the game.  He dodged one, two, then a third would-be tackler.  He was on the 35, the 25, the 10, and then touchdown!

 The crowd yelled its appreciation, the cheerleaders flipped enthusiastically, his quarterback was grinning.  And then someone hit him illegally, a late tackle.  He was struck hard in the thigh and, stunned, he went down on one knee.  Time slowed to an interminable crawl.  He saw the coach walking toward him … no, it was Alan … why was Alan coaching the Michigan Wolverines?

 “Don’t spike it, Pete,” ‘Coach’ Alan was saying as he walked in slow motion toward him.  “We can’t afford the penalty.  Easy.  Just put it down easy, boy.”

 Confused, Burke turned to look at the football he held protectively in his arms. It didn’t feel like a rough, dimpled oval anymore.  He looked around and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.  Gunter’s severed, bleeding head gaped up at him from between his own two hands.  Terrified, he dropped the horrible object immediately.  He tried to stand, but his leg refused to hold him and, groaning, he collapsed where he was and lay prone and spread-eagled between the goal posts.  The screams of the crowd echoed in his head, shrieks that all at once muffled and then resounded over and over, rising and falling like the wail of a thousand sirens.

 Then, suddenly, the stands were empty, and there was only one voice screaming.  He knew it was his own.

  “Pete!”

 The coach was calling to him.  He roused, struggling to pull himself up, but he didn’t have the strength.  His leg throbbed excruciatingly, and every attempt at movement fanned the flames already scorching his back.

 A cup was pressed against his lips, and he was forced to swallow the acrid tasting brew.  He gagged at the bitterness, but the liquid continued unabated down his throat.

 “That’s right, drink it all down, Pete.  Charlie says it’ll cut some of the pain and help you to sleep.  We had problems removing the bullet, but it’s all over now.  You’re going to be all right.  Rest.  I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

 Burke opened his eyes to a familiar face.  “Hey, coach,” he croaked, “I don’t think … I want to play … this game … anymore.”

  “I know, Pete,” came the choked reply.  “Neither do I.”

A single lamp and dancing flames in the fireplace provided all the meager light in the hushed bedroom.  Abruptly, Virdon stood and stretched the kinks from his stiff body.  He walked to the lightly frosted, mesh ‘windows’ and gazed out.  Nothing was visible in the still black courtyard below, and he sighed tiredly.  Daylight was still more than an hour away.  Rubbing at the overnight growth of stubble on his face, he returned to his watchful position by the bed.

 Tucked in the comfort of soft handmade sheets, Burke lay as he had for the past nine or ten hours, propped on his side, unconscious and unmoving.  Mercifully, the covers hid most of the obvious damage to his body, but the ugly scrapes on his cheek and the black circles of pain under his eyes were stark reminders of what he had already endured.  Virdon knew that without the assistance of modern medicine and painkillers, the road to recovery would be almost as agonizing as the original abuse.

  He reached out a hand and laid it gently on his friend’s forehead.  At last Pete was warm to the touch, but his battered face was bathed in a thin sheen of sweat.  Mildly alarmed, Virdon loosened the cocoon of bedding swaddling Burke and folded back the quilt coverlet to allow cooler air to circulate around the prone body.  Wringing excess water from a wet cloth, Alan gently sponged his friend’s face until his attentions elicited a frown and a guttural groan of displeasure.

 “I’m sorry, Pete.  I didn’t mean to disturb you … just trying to keep you comfortable.”

  Burke’s brows knitted together, and his eyes quivered beneath the lids.

  Virdon touched the wet cloth to his friend’s parched lips.  “Thirsty?”

 When words wouldn’t come, Pete merely nodded his head.

 “I’ll be right back.”  Alan walked hurriedly but cautiously, through the stillness of the darkened greathouse to the kitchen.  He selected a small mug, filled it half-full with well water and sped back upstairs to the bedroom.  “Here you go,” he said, slipping his hand under Burke’s neck and lifting the curly head ever-so-gently.  He dripped several droplets of cool liquid carefully through the dry lips, watching closely for any sign of choking or strangling, but Burke swallowed the water easily and appeared distressed only when Alan moved the cup away.

  “More …” he croaked weakly.

  “Not just yet, Pete.  Let’s see how it stays down, okay?” Alan said, sliding his friend’s head back onto the pillow.

 He hated not being able to give Burke more, but Charlie’s instructions before retiring for the evening had been explicit:  “Only tiny sips of water when he’s conscious; change his position every hour; clean the wounds twice during the night; don’t let him overheat or get chilled; check for fever hourly; and call me if there’s any change.”  He had memorized them and dutifully followed them to the letter.

  He retrieved the cloth again, dipped it into the wash basin, wrung it out, and once again dabbed it carefully over Burke’s swollen lips.  “Is that a little better?” he asked in a low voice.

 “Mmm hmmm,” Pete grunted gratefully.  His body relaxed, and he lay so quietly still that Virdon thought he had fallen asleep.

 The blond astronaut returned the cloth to the pan, but when he turned back around, he saw that Burke had finally opened his eyes and now set an unwavering stare on Virdon’s every move.

  “Still with me?” brought a slight nod, and Alan moved his chair closer to the bed.

 “Guess …” Burke gasped out unexpectedly, “I really … screwed up this time.”

 Virdon let a faint hint of a smile play on his lips; it didn’t quite reach the pinched sadness of his eyes.  “Well, it wasn’t exactly one of your best laid plans,” he agreed, trying to keep his voice light.  “How do you feel, Pete?”

 “Stupid …” the younger man mumbled, grimacing as he tried to move his throbbing leg.  “Very … very stupid.”

 Alan ignored the self-reproach.  “Can I get you anything else?”

   “A … Tylenol might help … but I doubt if any drug stores are … open this time of night …”  Burke said haltingly.  His face suddenly contorted as daggers drove their cruel, stinging blades unexpectedly into his tender thigh.  He recoiled against the mounting pain, but his jerky movements only heightened the intensity, spreading the torment to his already abused back.  Cramping muscles tore at his self-control, and he moaned and gnashed his teeth against the onslaught.

 “Easy … easy …try to lie still.  Don’t fight it so hard Pete, you’ll just make it worse,” Alan soothed, reaching out and taking the trembling hands in his own.

 Burke felt himself slipping … sliding …. drowning in a sea of pain and, desperate for a lifeline to hang on to, he vise-gripped Virdon’s hands.  A strangled sob escaped through his clenched teeth.

 “Relax now … easy … hold on, and I’ll give you something for the pain.”  Virdon detached himself from Pete’s death grip and retrieved the cup of Charlie’s magic potion.  It was almost empty.  Swearing under his breath, he turned a quick, worried glance back at Burke as another rasping groan erupted from the dark-haired man.

  “Charlie!”  Frantic with worry and unmindful of the time of day, Virdon yelled the old woman’s name and started purposefully toward the door.  It opened from the other side before he could reach it.

  Clad only in her nightgown, Arvid stepped gingerly into the room.  “Alan, what’s the matter?”  She took one look at Burke and paled.  “How long has he been like this?”

 “Too long,” Alan said, returning to Pete’s side and taking the man’s blindly groping hand in his own again.  “And we’re all out of Charlie’s pain medicine.”

  “There’s more downstairs in the kitchen.  I’ll be right back,” Arvid said and left hurriedly.

 ‘Hold on … hold on, Pete,” the tall blond said as Burke arched helplessly against another onslaught.

  “Here it is,” Arvid said, returning and rushing to Virdon’s side.

 Virdon took the mug, lifted it to Burke’s lips, but his own shaky hand allowed too much to pour into the slack mouth.  The bitter liquid overflowed, dribbling down the sides of the bruised face.  Pete strangled and coughed horribly, fighting to get his breath.  Virdon cursed his own clumsiness, then made ready to try again when a soft hand reached out to him, touched his shoulder hesitantly.

  “Let me do it?” Arvid whispered.

  Virdon hesitated for only a moment, then relinquished the medicine.  He watched in silence, marveling at the way Arvid tended Pete.  She spoke soothingly, telling him everything she was doing before she did it.  He saw Pete’s body relax as the young astronaut listened to her hypnotic voice.  Arvid fed the medicine, one spoonful at a time, into his injured friend.  It took a long time, but when she finished, Burke had swallowed all.

  Arvid rested the empty cup on the bed table, retrieved a cloth and tenderly bathed Burke’s ashen face.

 “Better now?” Virdon asked in a concerned voice.

 Although still visibly fighting pain, Burke managed a curt nod.

  “When the last time you cleaned and medicated the wounds, Alan?” Arvid asked quietly.

 “I haven’t yet.  Why?  Is infection setting in?”

  “No, and that’s why we need to do it … now … so none of his wounds will become infected,” she said apologetically.

Virdon closed his eyes, sighed despairingly and, although reluctant to disturb his friend again, he acquiesced.  “Okay, but let’s get it over with quickly.  He’s been through enough hell already.”  Positioning himself on the side of the bed, he eased Burke carefully into a sitting position.

“Now what …” Burke asked thickly.

“Take it easy, Pete.  Arvid’s going to clean your wounds and change the dressings. Just hold on for a few minutes.  This won’t take long.”

 “ … torture time … again …” Burke muttered, resting his cheek on Virdon’s shoulder.

 Arvid retrieved fresh water and bandages and took her position at the bedside, but her ministrations were interrupted by Charlie’s sudden appearance.

 “I’ll take over now, Arvid.  You can go downstairs.”

 “But …”

 Replacing her daughter, Charlie continued in her no-nonsense voice.  “You’re not needed here, Arvid.  Get dressed, go downstairs and start breakfast.  I’ll tend to Pete.”

“Yes, Mama,” Arvid said, not quite keeping the resentment from her voice.  She flashed Alan another apologetic look and quickly left the room.

  Charlie acted as though she hadn’t noticed.  She examined the young astronaut’s back and shook her head.  Meeting Alan’s gaze over her patient’s shoulder, she whispered, “Hold him tightly.”  To Burke, she said, “Okay, Pete.  Just a few more minutes of discomfort and then you can rest.  Hold on now, this may sting a bit.”

 Virdon held Burke’s limp body firmly, yet carefully.  The apes’ abuse had left so few unscathed places that he could only hope that his gentle embrace didn’t add to his friend’s suffering.

 Charlie cleansed Burke’s wounds quickly and efficiently.  Even so, Pete reacted to her treatment by stiffening in Virdon’s arms.  He flinched and jerked with every touch of the medicated cloth and tried unsuccessfully to smother his misery in Alan’s broad shoulder.

 Finally, as the overseer’s wife began to apply a foul-smelling ointment to the young astronaut’s raw flesh, Burke’s body went slack in Virdon’s arms.

 “I think he’s passed out, Charlie.”

 “Good!  He needs the rest.  I’ve seen a lot of cruelty in my life, Alan, but this is just about the worst example …”  She couldn’t finish and mutely shook her head.  “I just don’t understand how any thinking being can do this to another.”  She pulled back and wiped her hands on a dry towel.  “You can lay him back now.  I need to check his leg.”

 Alan eased the limp body down, maneuvering Pete gently onto his side.  “There’s just one problem with your logic, Charlie.  Apes believe that we can’t think or feel.  We’re even less than animals to them.”

 There was a lull in their conversation as Charlie examined and treated Burke’s thigh.  She bathed the wound, then placed a wad of soft cloth on top of it and encircled it with a linen strip.

 “There.  That should be all right for a little while,” she said.  She stood erect, carefully maneuvering her ancient bones into an upright position, then turned her attention to smoothing and straightening Burke’s bedding.

“Is he going to be all right, Charlie?”  Alan’s voice was low.

 “If he continued as he is and doesn’t get an infection … if his kidneys and his spine are undamaged … then I believe he will fully recover.  It’s going to take quite a bit of time …”  She raised her gaze and her eyebrows.  “That’s the best I can offer you right now.”

Nodding almost to himself, Virdon sucked in a tired breath, held it, and then let it gush out.  He was dead dog tired, teetering on the edge of exhaustion.  He felt himself swaying and reached out, catching the top of the bedpost just in time.

 Charlie rushed to his side.  “Are you all right, Alan?”

 Virdon closed his eyes and nodded.

  “We’ve all been so worried about Pete that we forgot to worry about you.  Sit down.  I’ll send Neva up with some breakfast.  When you’ve eaten every bite, I’ll find you a vacant bedroom and you can get some sleep.”

 “But, Charlie, I can’t leave Pete right now.  What if he wake sup and asks for me?”

  “Then we’ll wake you,” the overseer’s wife said.  “Arvid and Trina will care for him until you’ve rested.  They’re both quite capable.”  She patted his shoulder reassuringly, then exited the room.

 It was early afternoon when Virdon roused from his nap.  True to her word, Charlie had clucked over him until he had his fill of breakfast.  She then steered him to another bedroom and ordered him to lie down.  At first he resisted, but Virgil’s wife was a headstrong woman who refused to take ‘no’ for an answer.   He decided to humor her by lying down for just a few minutes, but when he let his tired body recline on the soft, downy mattress, he fell immediately into an exhausted, dreamless slumber.

 Hours later, rested and ravenous again, he awoke and twirled his pasty tongue around the inside of his dry mouth.  Personal hygiene and food, he decided, were Priorities Two and Three.  Priority One lay in a bed down the hall.  He yawned sleepily and hurried to check on Burke’s condition.

 He knew something was wrong when he stepped into the silent room.  On one side of the bed, Arvid bathed Pete’s bare arms and chest with a wet sponge; on the other, Trina laid a damp compress on his friend’s scraped forehead.

 “Arvid?”

 The tall, blond woman didn’t take her eyes from her task.  “He’s running a high temperature, Alan,” she said matter of factly.  “We’re trying to bring it down.”

 Virdon was across the room in two strides of his long legs.  He examined him with his eyes.  Pete’s skin was dry and taut as a snare drum, his face flushed a deep red.  Alan lightly touched Burke’s uninjured shoulder.  The simple act told him the young astronaut’s fever was dangerously high.

 Ignoring Trina, he retrieved the already warm cloth from Burke’s forehead and replaced it with a fresh, cool one.  “Where’s Charlie?” he asked irritably.

 Arvid pulled her hair away from her face and sighed wearily.  “She’s out with Papa Virgil.  There’s a medicinal plant that grows in the woods on the other side of the corn field.  It’s sometimes useful with fevers.”

  “Why didn’t someone wake me?”

 “Grandma told us not to.  She said to let you rest because Pete would need you later,” Trina said, replacing Alan’s folded cloth once more.

 “Do you know when they’ll be back?” Virdon asked, again reaching to remove the compress.

 Trina’s hand stopped him. “I just changed that,” she said, openly annoyed at his continued interference.

 Glowering at the girl, Virdon stood his ground.

 She returned his unwavering stare with a fierce look of her own.

 “Okay, okay … don’t fight …” a very weak voice suddenly said.  “There’s … enough of me to … go around …”

 Startled, both Trina and Virdon glanced down at Burke.  The dark-haired man was visibly fighting to keep his heavy eyelids open.  His breaths came in short, labored gasps, yet he managed a wan smile at the ridiculous standoff above him.

 Embarrassed, Alan quickly removed his hand from the compress and flashed Trina an open look of remorse.  “Truce?”

 The girl’s face reddened, and she smiled shyly up at him.  “Truce,” she agreed.

 Virdon knelt beside the bed and gripped his friend’s scalding hand.  “How’re you doing, Pete?”

  “… hot, Al … too damned hot …” Burke mumbled, his tenuous grip on consciousness slipping.

 “I know, I know,” Virdon said soothingly.  “But you’ve got to hang on.  Charlie’s out searching for some kind of wonder weed that’ll cut the fever.”  Alan glanced up at Arvid who now stood silently beside him.  Her eyes were swollen from lack of sleep, and she looked pale and exhausted.  On the opposite side of the bed, an equally fatigued Trina again freshened Burke’s compress.  “Boy, some guys have all the luck, Pete.  You know, I’d trade places with you in a minute.  I’d love to be lying there with nothing to do and have two beautiful women waiting on me hand and foot.”

 Gathering together the last vestiges of his rapidly dwindling strength, Burke expended it all in one whisper.  “No … you wouldn’t …”

 They were the last coherent words Virdon heard him say for a long, long time.

The rumors had all been true; it was like an oven in Hell.  Smokeless, soundless flames soared around him everywhere, licking hungrily at his bare legs and feet.  He squirmed helplessly, trying in vain to move away from their burning touch, but his efforts were to no avail.  He stood uncomfortably on tiptoe, bound and helpless.  His hands were pulled upward and chained to a tall metal beam.  The scene seemed somehow familiar, and he found himself growing increasingly apprehensive.

"So!  There you are, human!” a chilling, unrecognizable voice said.  “Ready for your punishment?”

Whistling sounds crescendoed into the obscene cracks of a whip, and Burke cringed involuntarily.

"Who are you?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard above the continuous snapping noises.

 "You know who I am, Pete,” the disembodied voice said as the whip grew closer with every successive crack.

 “No … I don’t know …” he said, but the rest of his sentence was cut off as the lash finally found its target.  The torture was a two-edged sword with agony coming from both sides.  He felt the unseen whip bite into his flesh over and over again, and with each ensuing blow, his body was propelled into the white hot metal beam.  At last the impacts ceased, and he hung ragdoll limp, his naked torso seared and bleeding.  Laughter pierced through the red haze of pain, assaulting his ears with maniacal glee.  Someone grabbed his hair and pulled hard, jerking his drooping head backward so abruptly he almost blacked out.   His stomach lurched sickeningly, and he tried to swallow but his throat had constricted shut.  He drew in a ragged breath and forced his eyes to open and focus on the face in front of him.  “Now do you recall my name, Pete?” the blurry face said.  “Pete?  Can you hear me, Pete?”  He struggled with the indistinct visage, blinking furiously until the fuzzy picture coalesced into a familiar, hairy face.

 “Galen!” he gasped in stunned surprise.  But his simian friend did not react, and the evil smile remained frozen on the terrifying features.  Suddenly, the flames surrounding him grew hotter and higher, rising in a crimson tidal wave of encroaching heat.  It grew ever closer, reaching out and delivering indiscriminate jabs of torment .  He writhed in the burning agony, crying out as the flames reached out to consume him completely.  The last thing he heard before Hell disintegrated around him was the malevolent, echoing laughter of Galen.  It reverberated around him, growing increasingly in volume until, finally, the sound drowned out everything, and he saw and heard no more.

 A week had dragged by since the awful fever vented its all-consuming fury on Burke.  Trapped in a nightmarish web of delirium, he hovered on the threshold of life and death for three days and nights; then, on the evening of the fourth day, the fever finally relented, and the household breathed a collective sigh of relief.

 Since then, the almost constant pain had dwindled to only an occasional twinge, but the soreness persisted, making any and all body movements extremely uncomfortable.  Pete’s appetite was back, boosted by the return of his senses of smell and taste, and his sarcastic streak had been restored completely intact.

  Only his energy level lagged behind.  A pervading weakness held on, stubbornly frustrating his efforts to walk or stand or even sit for any length of time without tiring.  He made headway, improving day-by-day, but his progress, while practically miraculous to Virdon and Virgil’s family, seemed unsatisfactory to his own eyes.

 He sulked over his one major accomplishment for the day:  hobbling on crutches all the way to the bathroom on his own.  The fact that he hadn’t managed to make it all the way back alone dug deeply into his self-esteem.  Trina had rescued him and escorted him back to bed where, totally drained, he collapsed and napped the rest of the morning and on into early afternoon.

  When Virdon arrived, hungry, cold and tired from his daily outdoor chores, Pete was in a sullen mood.

 “So,” the blond man said, yanking off his work gloves and blowing on his frozen fingers.  “How are you feeling this afternoon?”

  “How would you feel if you couldn’t even walk to and from the bathroom on your own?”

 Virdon tugged the crew-neck pullover over his head, folded it, and placed it in the upper drawer of the chiffonier.  “I’ve been there once or twice myself.  I know how you feel,” he soothed.  He sank heavily into Charlie’s comfortable rocker and had started to pull his boots off when there was a faint knock at the door.

 “Alan?  Pete?  It’s Arvid.  Can I come in?”

  “It’s open,” Pete said, frowning as the tall, blonde woman entered.  “Is it torture-time again already?”

 Alan rolled his eyes.  “Don’t mind him, Arvid.  He’s just getting back to his normal, sunshine-filled personality.”

  “Still impatient to get well, Pete?  Well, I don’t blame you.  It’s no fun being sick for so long,” Arvid said with a sympathetic glance.  “But I’m here to let you know dinner’s nearly ready, and I’ll be back in a little while to help you with it.”

   “I don’t need any help with my dinner, thank you,” Burke said curtly.

 “Pete, you don’t have to be rude.  Arvid’s done nothing but try to help you.”  Virdon interjected.  He walked over and stood beside Virgil’s middle daughter.  “He didn’t mean it the way it sounded, Arvid.”

 “I know he didn’t,” Arvid said patiently.  Impulsively, she leaned forward and brushed her lips against Virdon’s mouth.  “But, thank you for caring about my feelings anyway.”

  Burke watched as Virdon pulled back a little too abruptly from Arvid’s harmless kiss.  But she appeared not to notice and merely patted the blond astronaut affectionately on the cheek, then turned her warn smile to Burke.

 “Get some rest, Pete.  It’ll do wonders for your attitude.  I’ll be back in a little while with your dinner.  If you need anything before then, just give me a yell.”

  “I will,” the younger man said gratefully, “and thank you for understanding.”

 She beamed.  “And you get some rest too, Alan,” she ordered teasingly.  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s been well over a week since you actually slept through the night.”

 “Yes, ma’am,” Alan said in an amused voice.

  Winking at Pete, Arvid headed out the door.  Virdon stared after her for a long, silent moment.

  “Alan,” Pete struggled to pull his sore body into an upright position, failed in mid-try, and settled for propping himself up on an elbow.  “Why don’t you stop fighting it?  There’s no harm in letting yourself feel something for Arvid.  She’s a warm, lovely person who obviously cares a lot about you.”

  “I know, Pete, and I like her very much.  Too much to lead her on and end up hurting her.  After all, I’m a married man with a family.  I can’t afford to get involved with another woman right now.”

 Burke sighed wearily and let his arm relax.  He sank weakly back into the softness of the thick pillows.  “You know, I’m getting pretty tired of the same old tune, Alan.  You’re NOT a married man anymore.  Whether you want to face the facts or not, you’re a widower now.  Sally and Chris have been dead for hundreds … hell, thousands, of years, and I just wish you’d stop deceiving yourself about getting back to them someday.  It’s not ever going to happen.”

 Although Virdon was used to Burke’s occasional derisive lectures about his own hopes of one day returning to their own time, the stress and worry of the past weeks combined to form an increasing resentment, and Alan found himself wincing inwardly at the hurtful words.   Outwardly, he forced himself to maintain an unruffled tolerance of Burke’s ridicule.  “You really don’t believe there’s even a remote chance that we’ll ever find a way back to our own time, do you?” he said quietly.

  “No, I don’t, and I think it’s kinda silly for you to keep clinging to the fantasy.  Come on, Alan, we’ve been here over eight months, and we’re no closer to finding a solution than we were eight minutes after we got here.”

 A wisp of a smile played at the blond man’s lips.  “If you don’t really believe we’ll ever make it back, Pete, why did you risk you life to get another disk?”

 Burke pondered for a moment.  “I don’t know really … I suppose it’s because deep down inside of me, there’s this little bitty shred of hope that maybe, just maybe, you might be able to pull it off.  It’s kinda like when I was nine hears old, and all the kids at school said there was no Santa Claus.  I’d already known for years there wasn’t one, but every Christmas Eve, I’d still leave out the milk and cookies … just in case.  Alan, the logical part of me says it’s never going to happen.  Can’t you see that too?”

  “I see … . but my heart says something else.  Even if there’s only a one-in-a-million chance, Pete, I’ll take it.  I’ll risk death to get back to Sally and Chris.”

   “Then Galen and I will die right along with you,” Burke said bitterly.  “Urko and Zaius will win, and all this will have been for nothing.”

 Alan began to pace the length of the room, his stone-faced appearance evidence of a growing inner turmoil.  Virdon was an easygoing, slow-to-anger man, and Burke knew the ominous signs of impending rage.  He ignored them.

  “Look, Alan, we’re not ever going to find a working computer to decode either one of those disks.  And even if we did, there’s no guarantee we’ll learn how to reverse the process.  Besides, who’s going to build an aircraft that can survive what the last one barely made it through?  And who’s going to make the rockets to lift it?’  Pete’s voice rose in volume.  “Where are we going to process our fuel?  And what do we wear for protective head gear … wooden bowls?”  Burke raised himself up on two elbows, again struggling to pull his sore body into a sitting position.  When he failed in his second attempt, he pounded his fist on the mattress in helpless frustration.  Pain shot through his body, lending a cruel inflection to his voice.  “What happened to us was a quirk of fate, and it’s not ever going to happen again.  We’ve been there, done that, and got the fucking T-shirt!  Now,  let’s both of us get on with our lives!”

  The look of consummate pain cemented in Virdon’s face forced Burke to look away.  Instantly contrite and ashamed, he opened his mouth to blurt out an apology, but when he turned back to face the blond astronaut, he was paralyzed, shocked at his own outburst.

  “I … I think I’ll run down to the barn and see if there’s anything I can do to help Angus.  He’s usually feeding and bedding down the animals this time of day,” Virdon said in a stunned, emotionless voice.  He pulled open the chiffonier drawer, grabbed his pullover and shrugged into it again.

  “Alan … I …”  Pete finally found his voice, but his friend was already heading out the door.

 “Call Arvid if you need anything, Pete.  I’ll be in the barn.”  Virdon threw the words over his shoulder haphazardly, and then he was gone.

  The sudden deafening silence only made Burke more acutely aware of the stark void left by his friend’s departure, and he chastised himself for the unnecessary tantrum.  Since his brainwashing sessions with Wanda and his physical torment at the hands of Odiah, Burke found himself growing increasingly more and more out of control.  He was aware that the underlying cause of his explosions of temper centered on his own feelings of inadequacy, helplessness and suppressed anger, but he also knew there was no excuse for taking these frustrations out on his best friend.  Shame and guilt combined to bring the threat of tears to his eyes.

 Determined to make amends and using sheer willpower alone, the young astronaut forced his body into a sitting position and edged his legs over the side of the bed.  The severe pain and enormous effort brought the threatening tears to fruition, and he felt one slowly trickle down his cheek.  Indignant, he swiped at it, then searched fervently for his pants and shoes.  None were in plain sight, so he reached for the homemade crutches, hand-whittled and so proudly presented to him only the day before by the man he had just pierced with his sharp words.  Again, remorse spurred him on, giving him the strength and incentive to stand on his unsteady, painful legs.  Ten minutes later, dressed and covered in sweat and self-satisfaction, Burke quietly made his unobtrusive, torturous way down the stairs and out the door.

 The sky was overcast, making the late November afternoon feel cold and biting.  He immediately regretted that he hadn’t taken the time to put on his warm mouton cape.  Shivering, he limped his way across the courtyard, taking great care to avoid any likelihood of viewing the tree stump where Odiah had whipped him over a week before.  Arriving at the double doors of the barn, he rested for a moment against the whitewashed wood, then lifted the latch and fell through the door.

  “Pete?”  Startled, Alan looked up from his task, his voice filled with alarm and concern.

 Panting with exertion and suddenly overcome with a bone-weary weakness, Burke collapsed heavily onto the first available bale of hay.

 “What are you trying to do?  Kill yourself?”  Aghast, Alan hurried to his friend’s side.

 Burke wiped at the film of cold, sticky sweat covering his forehead and, when words wouldn’t get past his deep gasps for breath, he closed his eyes tiredly and mutely shook his head.

 Virdon pulled off his own crew-neck sweater and tugged it over Pete’s perspiration-soaked hair.  “Just look at your back!  It’s bleeding again.  I swear, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.  Sometimes you’re just like a little kid.  You never think things through, just go barreling headlong into trouble …”  He shook his head in futility as he finished fitting Pete’s lifeless arms through the sleeves of the sweater.

 “… and I also have a problem with saying the wrong things … at the wrong time … to good friends.”  Pete finally got the words out.  He suddenly shivered as the howling wind blew its icy breath through the drafty, old barn.  “I’m so sorry, Alan.  I said some very hurtful things, and I didn’t mean then.”

 “I know you didn’t,” the tall blond said.  “And I shouldn’t have gotten upset and left you alone.  You’re still weak and sick, and so much has happened in so little time … we’re both having problems dealing with it all.  And then there’s Galen.  Something has to have happened to him or he would’ve been here long ago.”

 “I know,” Pete sniffed and wiped his dripping nose on the back of his hand.

 Alan reached into his pocket, retrieved a handkerchief, and handed it to Burke.  “Here,” he said, “let’s get you back to the greathouse.”

  “Wait a couple of minutes, Alan,” the younger man said.  “I really don’t think I’m up to trying to make it back just yet.”

  “All right then.  You just rest there, and I’ll finish feeding these animals.  I sent Angus home; he’s got a devil of a cold and shouldn’t be out in this weather any more than you.”  Virdon examined Pete with his eyes and, still worried, he picked up the pitchfork and began to hurriedly fling hay into the stall.

The injured man reached inside himself, willing strength to return to his useless arms and legs but, again, his body turned deaf ears to his orders.  He sighed, grudgingly accepting his frailty, and glanced around at the encased farm animals.

 All occupants seemed to sense that their dinner meal was forthcoming for raspy baa’s and soft moo’s floated anticipatingly throughout the barn.  Behind him, a large gray mare pushed her long, slender nose over the wooden slats and snorted a puff of warm, tickling air at the back of his head.

  Burke turned carefully and smiled at the animal.  This time when he directed it, his hand obeyed, and he raised it to pet the silken nose.  He rubbed gently until the horse, eyeing Virdon’s approach with a bucket of oats, pulled away and trotted to he feed bucket on the other side of the stall.

   Energy was slowly returning to his limbs, and Pete turned back around and began to force his sore muscles to pull his body into an erect sitting stance.  His hands pushed down on the bale of hay as he scooted his rump backward into a more comfortable position and, when he finished, he felt a mounting sense of accomplishment.  Cold air filtered in again, catching him on the nape of the neck and swirling around inside his clothing.  He shivered, reaching up to pull Alan’s sweater tighter around his neck.  When he did, he noticed several dark smudges on the palm and fingers of his left hand.  He stared for a long, thoughtful moment at the discoloration.

   “Alan?”

 Virdon stopped in mid-pour.  “You okay?”  The older man’s voice held a hint of anxiety.

  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.  Getting my strength back slowly, but there’s a problem here.  Take a closer look at that gray mare you’re feeding, will you?”

 The tall blond emptied the rest of the oats into the trough and hung the empty bucket on a wooden peg.  He examined the horse from front to back.  “What about her?”

  “Check out the snout, especially around the nose.”

 “She’s got it buried in her food … no … now I can see.  There’s a smudge of white in the middle of her nostrils.”

“Damn …”  Burke whispered the expletive.  “I didn’t dream it after all.  They did it.  they really did it!”

 “Did what?  Who?  What are you taking about?”

  “Virgil had them killed, Alan!  All three of them!”

“Your solo to the barn must’ve affected more than just your muscles, Pete, because you’re not making any sense at all.”

 “All this time, I thought it was just another one of my nightmare,” Burke said with a faraway look in his eyes, “but it wasn’t.  Now I know they really did kill them.”

“Will you please tell me what the hell you’re talking about!”  Virdon said in a high, exasperated voice.

“Listen to me, Alan,” Burke said excitedly.  “I don’t really remember too  much of what went on after Angus slugged you and took you into the barn, but I do recall hearing some very strange noises, and then, all of a sudden, the beating stopped, and the apes just … weren’t there anymore.  I remember falling and not being able to get a breath.  My nose was clogged so I had to turn myself over in order to breathe.  It hurt like hell, and I almost lost it right there, but I was lucid enough to know what I saw … and I saw him …”  He shuddered in horror at the memory.

  “Who?”

 “Gunter … or what used to be Gunter.  It was just his head, Alan, lying sideways on the ground, and he was staring at me with the most godawful expression on his face.  And then I must’ve lost consciousness.  Later, when everyone agreed that after the fun and hilarity of beating me, the apes had gone on to Lord Micah’s, I just assumed I’d been hallucinating.  But, Alan, if they had really left here on their own, they would’ve taken the same animals that they came here with.  And that mare is snow white under all that charcoal.”  He pointed to another horse on the opposite side of the barn.  “And I’ll bet beneath that dappled gray coat over there, you’ll find another white horse, the same one I was riding when they shot me.  Those two animals are the matched set Odiah drove into the courtyard.”

 Although Virdon shook his head in disbelief, he still walked determinedly to the second horse, grabbed his handkerchief and rubbed the animal’s side vigorously.  The cloth came away soiled a dark gray.  “Now why would they do something like that and then try to disguise it?  It doesn’t make any sense at all.  Virgil would never allow murder.”

  “How do you know?  Alan, what do we really know about Overseer Virgil except what he and his family have told us?”

 “Well, it’s obvious he’s a good, caring man, Pete, a man of integrity and scruples, and he and Charlie keep this place running like a well-oiled military machine, with Lord Micah as the commanding general.

 “Well, since you brought it up, don’t you think it’s a little bit weird that we’ve been here nearly tow months, and we’ve never even laid eyes on that gentle-ape?  What kind of all-powerful ape master leaves this much land and everything on it in control of one human slave?  Don’t you think he’d at least send a lieutenant or an assistant to check on things every once in a while.”

  Virdon shrugged.  “I have to admit I’ve wondered about it myself.  But, Pete, even the auctioneer and the villagers seemed familiar with Lord Micah.  And Gunter acted as though he’d met him before.  I just don’t know.  Virgil seems so convincing in everything he says and does.  Are you absolutely sure about what you saw?”

  “Positive.  While you snoozed in the barn and I was … otherwise occupied … Virgil and his family murdered those three apes and got rid of their bodies.  But they wouldn’t dispose of the horses.  They’re valuable property.”  Burke sniffed and wiped his nose again.  “You know, I think this cold air hasn’t just cleared my sinuses.  It’s blowing away most of the fuzzies too.  I think I’m actually beginning to see the whole picture now.”

“What do you mean?”

  “I just don’t buy this lord Micah baloney anymore.  Do you?”

 Alan met Burke’s gaze knowingly, then nodded.  “I agree with you.  If we put all the evidence together, it all points to just one very obvious conclusion:  This place is owned and operated by Virgil, Charlie and company.”

  “And I’ll bet there never even was a Lord Micah.  That sly old geezer … Virgil’s been screwing the entire ape population for nearly half a century, and they’ve been thanking him for it.  Hey, I’m impressed!  How come we didn’t think of something like that?”

  “Ours was the ‘second coming’ and we were announced!  I’ll bet when Virgil and Charlie landed here, they crashed in a deserted area, and no one ever saw them arrive.  All they had to do was blend in for a while, learn how the system worked, and after that it was probably pretty simple for them to lay the groundwork for something like this.”

 “Amazing!” Burke said with a grin.  “But, now that we know, what do we do about it?”

 “What would you want to do?  Expose him?”

 “No, I’d never do anything to harm Virgil or his family, not after all they’ve done for us.”

 Virdon returned to his hay pitching and tossed a load into another nearby stall.

  “Alan?”

 “Hmmmm?”

  “Would  you say that Virgil killed those three apes to save my life?”

  “I can’t think of any other reason.”

 “Well, there are no other apes anywhere around here, right?  And the auctioneer and villages didn’t seem to want to ever come near this place.  Do you think it might be standard operating procedure for Virgil and his family to kill off any apes that happen to wander onto the sector?”

  “What are  you getting at, Pete?”

  “Galen.”

  The tall astronaut stopped in mid-toss.  “What about him?”

 Burke hurried on.  “Well, just follow my line of thinking on this, Al. Galen should’ve been here weeks ago, right?”

 Virdon nodded.

  “And every time you’ve mentioned leaving this place, Virgil has either changed the subject or he clams up and won’t discuss it further.  What if Galen did show up here and … what if Virgil wasn’t ready to part with us … and what if Virgil already fixed it so he wouldn’t have to …”

  “I don’t like what you’re inferring, Pete.”

  “Neither do I.  So what do we do about it?”

  “What can we do?  You have to get well before we can leave here.”  Virdon said, thrusting the pitchfork into a nearby haystack.  He stood for a moment, both hands resting on his hips, and rocked back and forth on the heels of his boots.  “Think you can make it back across the courtyard yet?”

  “I’m still a little shaky, but I feel stronger now.”

  “Okay,” Virdon said, offering his arm.  “I’ll get you settled back into bed at the greathouse, and then I think it’s time both of us had a little heart-to-heart with our fellow astronauts.

 Burke accepted his friend’s help and pushed himself into a standing position.  He hung onto Alan’s arm, steadying his wobbly legs and balancing on a single crutch.  He retrieved the second crutch and, together, the two astronauts made maddeningly slow progress across the courtyard.

 As they entered the greathouse, Arvid met them in the parlor.  She chastised Pete for jeopardizing his recovery and scolded Virdon for allowing Burke to leave the house, then helped the tall blond maneuver the exhausted man back upstairs and into bed.

 Shivering with cold and debilitating weakness, Burke began coughing so forcefully that Arvid raced to the kitchen for warm chamomile tea.  She returned with two steaming cups, watching closely as Burke managed to gulp down a few swallows and, both she and Virdon relaxed only when the younger man slid into a fretful sleep.

  Collapsing in the comfortable rocking chair, Alan sipped the warm tea and watched silently as Arvid fussed over Pete’s bedding.  She fluffed the pillows, smoothed the wrinkled sheets, and shoved the guilt ends under the mattress.  Straightening from her task, she picked up Pete’s barely touched cup of tea and prepared to leave.

 “Dinner’s almost ready, Alan, if you want to wash up now.  I guess it’ll be a while before Pete’s ready to eat.  Can I get you anything else?”

  “How about some answers,” Virdon said, placing the teacup on the nightstand and folding his hands together in his lap.

  Curious, Arvid paused and looked pointedly at Virdon.  “What kind of answers?” she asked.

 “Well, for one, where did Gunter and his two compadres really go when they left here?”

 There was a pause as Arvid seemed taken aback, then the woman laughed nervously.  “Well, they went on to Lord Micah’s, of course, like Papa Virgil said.  Why do you ask?”

 Virdon ignored her question and forged on.  “Well, how about this Lord Micah?  Does he really exist or is he just a figment of your father’s creative genius?”

  “I don’t understand what you mean, Alan.  Why are you asking these question?”

  “Arvid …”

 “No more.  You really shouldn’t speak of such things,” she said, moving for the door.  “If you have any more questions, ask my father.  Now wash up and hurry down to dinner,” she called back from the hallway.  Then she was gone.

 “Think it was something you said?” Burke mumbled from his prone position.

 “Probably,” Virdon replied, sluggishly pulling off his work boots.  “And why are you eavesdropping when you should be asleep?”

 “Who could sleep with the two of you chattering like a couple of chimpanzees!”

  “Sorry.  I’m leaving now.  Get some rest, and we’ll both take this subject up with Charlie and Virgil in the morning.”

 “’kay,” Burke grunted, almost unintelligibly.

  On impulse, Virdon checked his friend’s forehead, nodded to himself in satisfaction.  Burke was cool to the touch with no sign of the fever’s return.  He pulled the quilt up, tucking it firmly around Pete’s shoulders, and then headed down to dinner.

 Virdon and most of Virgil’s family had just sat down at the table when an excited Andrew burst through the kitchen door.  “Apes!” he shouted.

 Angus and Virdon were already bolting from their seats when Virgil held up his hands and motioned for calm.  Both men sat back down but maintained their alert positions.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Virgil said collectedly.  “How many, Andrew?  Gorillas, chimps or orangutans?  Were they on foot or horseback?”

 “Foot,” the teenager said, reaching to catch his breath.  “Gorillas, I think.  And I’m not sure how many.”

 “Well, how many did you see, son?” Angus asked, trying to be patient and failing.

 “I think two, but I could be wrong.  The light’s getting pretty back outside, and the shadows are mixing together.”

 “All right then, we’ll plan for at least two.”

 The women began to slowly gather the untouched food from the table.  Neva revived the fire in the stove, placed warming plates on the hood and moved those items that could be salvaged to the top of the stove.  Arvid covered the perishables, while Trina restocked the condiments on the shelves.

  “Alan, you’re with me,” Mama Charlie said, opening a secret door and collecting two rifles and a container of ammunition.  She handed a loaded gun to Virdon, who shot Virgil a questioning look.

 “You’re with Charlie,” the old man concurred, nodding his head.  “If they’re here searching for Gunter and his party, then we can handle it down here by ourselves.  If they’re looking for you and Pete … well, it’s better if you’re not in plain sight.”

 “Agreed,” Alan acquiesced and hurried after Charlie.

  Exhausted from his haunt to the barn, Burke was sleeping soundly and, careful not to wake him, Charlie and Alan tiptoed into the bedroom.  Virdon extinguished one of the larger wall lanterns and lowered the flame in the table lamp to a weak flicker.  The room grew eerily dark.

 The old woman seated herself in the bentwood rocking chair near the window.  With a full view of the front courtyard, she settled back and began to rock slowly.

 Placing himself in a defensive position on the opposite side of the bed, Virdon quietly drew up a straight chair near to his sleeping friend and faced the door.  He laid the rifle across his lap, locked his eyes on the door handle and waited.

 Except for the rhythmic creaks of Charlie’s steady rocking and Burke’s nasal breathing, the interminably long wait passed in silence.  When the weak autumn sun dropped below the horizon and the room grew even darker, Virdon found himself nervously fidgeting.  The first floor of the house remained ominously quiet and, as his anxiety intensified, the blond astronaut could hear the sound of his own heart slamming in his ears.

 When footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway, Virdon reacted immediately, flinging a light coverlet over Burke’s head to mask his identity and readying the gun to fire at the first sign of trouble.  To his right, Charlie continued her incessant rocking, but her body tensed, and Virdon saw her cock the rifle and put her finger on the trigger.

 “Charlie!” Virgil’s voice called from the other side of the door.

  “Yes, Virgil,” his wife answered calmly.

  “Everything’s all right.  We’re coming in now.”

  Charlie threw a relieved glance over at a still edgy Alan.  “Okay, come ahead.”

 The heavy door swung wide to reveal Virgil standing next to a thin, haggard-looking chimpanzee.  It took a moment for Virdon to recognize the dirty, ragged ape.  “Galen?” he asked tentatively, examining the strange, yet somehow familiar, face.  Then, “Galen!”

 Virdon’s voice was a catalyst, and the chimpanzee rushed forward.  The two hugged fiercely, then drew apart.  Staring at each other for a long moment, they both suddenly laughed and hugged once more.

 “Where have you been?” the blond astronaut questioned.  “We were worried to death something terrible had happened to you.  We even thought …”  He stopped in mid-sentence and set his gaze on the old overseer.

 Virgil’s approving smile changed to a puzzled frown.  “I take it this is the friend you told me about?”

 “Yes, this is Galen.  Galen, this is Overseer Virgil, head of Lord Micah’s northern territory.  His son, Angus, bought us from the auction the day after you left.”  Virdon paused to catch his breath.  “And this is his wife, Charlie … Charlotte …”

 “Charlie will do, Alan.  How do you do, Galen?  I’m very glad to finally meet you.”

 Galen nodded his head cordially at the old woman.  “And Pete … where’s Pete?” he asked excitedly.

 “Oh …” Virdon was suddenly contrite.  “I forgot.”  He moved to the bed and lifted the covers.  “Pete … you awake under there?”

 “I am now,” the dark-haired man grumbled.  “What’s going on?”

  “We have a visitor,” Alan said, moving aside.

 At the first view of his frail-looking friend, Galen sent a look of purest shock in Virdon’s direction, but the blond astronaut clandestinely shook his head and mouthed the word “later” to the young ape.

 Still groggy from his short nap, Burke opened his sleep-filled eyes and focused on the face of a nightmare come to life.  Demonic ape features peered menacingly down at him, and he recoiled in heart-stopping terror.

 “Pete?  It’s Galen.  Don’t you recognize me?”

 The human swallowed convulsively and forced his gasps for breath to slow.  “Galen?  Galen!” he whispered in disbelief.  A hairy paw reached out to tap his shoulder affectionately; Burke cringed away, and Galen’s hand froze in mid-air.

 Pete looked up at the chimpanzee’s face, then turned away quickly.  He couldn’t seem to make himself meet his friend’s eyes.  “Galen … I’m sorry … you startled me,” he said, still having to reach for breaths.

  “It’s all right.  I know I must look a sight.  I’d scare my own mother looking like this,” Galen said, pulling his hand back and tossing another perplexed glance toward Alan.

 The blond man met his gaze with concerned blue eyes and was about to speak when Angus’ daughter unexpectedly arrived with a tray of warm food.

 “Trina!”  There was obvious relief in Burke’s voice.  “Thank goodness.  I’m starving.”

   The girl looked around at the overpopulated room.  “Arvid and Neva have set the table and reheated the food,” she announced, placing the tray on the nightstand.  Retrieving a chair, she fixed it beside Burke’s bed and began to arrange the utensils.

 During the uncomfortable silence that followed, Virgil suddenly stepped forward.  “Of course you will join us for dinner, Galen.  We have many dishes I’m sure an ape would find appetizing.”

 The young chimpanzee shot another troubled glance in Burke’s direction, but his empty stomach rumbled at the delicious smells drifting up from the kitchen.  “I’d be happy to,” he said, turning away and following Virgil and Charlie out the door.  “Enjoy your meal, Pete.  We’ll get caught up after dinner.”

“Yes … we’ll do that,” the dark-haired man said, struggling to sit up.

 Alan helped his friend into a sitting position.  “Pete?  What’s wrong?”

 Burke raked a shaky hand through his dark curls and sighed.  “I … I’m not sure, Alan.  I .. he … he just scared the living hell out of me.”

 Virdon forced a relieved laugh.  “Well, that’s my fault.  I’m sorry, but I was just so happy to see him alive that I didn’t think what your reaction would be.  Listen, I’m going to run down and eat with the family and find out where Galen’s been all this time.  Then we’ll get together with Virgil and Charlie to finish that little discussion we had in the barn.”

  “I’d like to be in on that one, Alan,” Burke said.  “Trina can help me down to the den when I’m finished here.”

  “Unh unh,” Virdon shook his head emphatically.  “No, you’ve already overdone it for one day.  You stay put, and I’ll get everyone to bring their desserts up here.  Okay?”

 “Okay,” Burke agreed.

 “I’ll be back up in a little while,” Virdon said as he headed out the door.  “Trina, see to it he eats every bite.  We have to fatten him up quickly.  Now that Galen’s here, we’ll be on our way just as soon as Pete’s able to travel.”

 When the sound of Virdon’s footsteps had dissipated, Angus’ auburn-haired daughter offered a cup of rich goat’s milk to the young astronaut.  She watched silently as Burke drained it in one quick gulp.  “Pete, are you really going away with Alan and that … ape?” she asked in a small voice.

  Calmer now, Burke handed the empty glass back to the girl and absently wiped away the milk mustache on his upper lip.  “I have to, Trina.  They both need me.”

  “I need you too,” Trina said, her small voice wavering with emotion.

  “You’ve got your entire family here, Trina, a whole built-in support system, while Virdon and Galen have pretty much lost everyone and everything they’ve ever cared about.  I have to go with them.”

 “But what about your needs and your losses, Pete?”  She reached out her hand, tenderly finger-combed a stubborn curl from his forehead.  “After … what happened in the cave … I thought we had a future,” she said sadly.

 Burke stiffened and shifted his position uncomfortably on the bed.  He searched vainly for the right words.  “Trina,” he finally began.  “I should never have allowed us to go that far.  I’m a lot older than you are, and it was my responsibility to control the situation.  But I didn’t.  And as much as I’d like to, I can’t go back and change what happened between us.”  He reached out, took her hand in his, and stared directly into her eyes.  “I do care very much for you, but there can be no future for the two of us.  I can’t stay here.  When Alan and Galen leave, I’ll go with them.  I hope you’ll understand and maybe forgive me someday.”

 Her lower lip began to tremble, and she cast her eyes downward, staring pointedly at their intertwined fingers.

 Burke heard her take a deep breath, felt her pull away from his grasp.  He readied himself for a torrent of tears and anger.  They never came.

  “Here,” she said calmly, holding out the spoon and bowl.  “Your onion soup is getting cold.  If you’re determined to go with them, the least I can do is make certain you’re healthy.”  She smiled at him through her tear-glistening eyes.  “And who knows?  Maybe you won’t find what you’re looking for anywhere else, and you’ll come back here.  Then I won’t let you get away so easy.”

  He grabbed a roll, dipped it into the warm broth, and brought it to his lips.  “You’re an amazing young woman, Trina, do you know that?”

  The girl straightened in her seat and lifted her chin.  “I’m told I take after my great-grandfather,” she said.

  “I don’t understand, Alan,” Galen said between bites of a scrumptious sweet potato casserole.  “Pete was practically well when I left you at the auction, but now he looks terrible.  Positively awful.”

  “It’s a long story, Galen, one I’ll delve into as soon as we’ve finished our dinner,” Alan said.

  The young ape reached for another portion of baked apple, savoring it for a time before swallowing.

  Virdon smiled, remembering his first dinner at the greathouse.  “I’ll tell you about Pete later, Galen, but I’m very curious as to what kept you.  We’ve been nearly out of our minds with worry.  Except for Pete’s condition, we’d have been out looking for you weeks ago.”

  Galen tossed a guarded look at his astronaut friend.

  “There’s no need to hold anything back.  Virgil and his family know everything about us – who we are – where we came from – where we’re going,” Virdon said reassuringly.

 Galen nodded.  If, after all this time, Alan felt he could trust this man with their secrets, he could too.  He wiped his mouth with a homespun napkin, swigged down a gulp of warm, herb tea.  Signing with intense pleasure, he began.  “It took much longer than I expected to get back to my parents’ house.  Urko’s soldiers seemed to be everywhere, and I had to bypass two or three divisions and go out of my way more than once.”

 He bit into an ear of richly buttered corn, chewed contentedly for a while, then continued.  “When I got home, I learned my father had become very ill shortly after we left, and mother asked me to stay a while until he recovered.  Since he couldn’t arrange for the ownership papers until he returned to work, I had no choice but to remain hidden in the house until his condition improved.  That was another two weeks, and it took several more days after that to get the paperwork done.  Then I started back, again having to make detours to avoid Urko’s traps, but when I got to the auction and showed Chon my papers, he couldn’t seem to recall who had purchased my two ‘slaves.’  Anyway, when he wouldn’t let me see his records, I sought out the village ape council and filed a formal complaint against him.  That’s when he finally admitted that he’d sold you and Pete to Lord Micah.  Well, that particular piece of information seemed to cause even more of an uproar than my return with the ownership papers.  The ape council, the auctioneer and most of the apes in that village seemed scared to death that my repossession of you and Pete would upset Lord Micah, and he would swoop down on the entire village and destroy them.  Anyway, it took another three weeks to find this place because I couldn’t get anyone to give me directions.  But here I am, at last.”  He grinned at Alan and Virgil’s family.  “I’d think I’d like to meet your Lord Micah one day.  He sounds like a very interesting ape.”

  “So would we,” Alan said and cast a pointed look in Virgil’s direction.  “But, to be frank, I don’t think he exists.  Does he, Virgil?”

 A thick silence fell on the room.  All eyes turned to the overseer.

 Virgil seemed reflective, as though he was turning a decision over and over in his mind.  He glanced at Galen for a moment, considered, then seemed to come to a conclusion.  “Micah was a real ape.  You see, when Charlie and I landed here, we both were badly injured.  An old chimpanzee found us, cared for us, and hid us from the local ape population so no one would know where we came from or how we got here.  Micah was a loner, someone we would’ve dubbed a hobo or tramp in our own time.”

 At this, Galen stopped eating.  “’Landed here … our own time …’?  Alan, what is he talking about?”

 “Virgil and Charlie were astronauts, just like Pete and me.  Except they left earth seventeen years after we did and arrived here forty years before us.”

 The young ape’s mouth gaped in awe and disbelief.

 Virdon turned back to the overseer.  “You’re speaking of Micah in the past tense, Virgil.  Why?”

  The gray-haired man stroked his beard thoughtfully.

   “Virgil …”  Charlie started a warning, but her husband shook his head.

  “There’s no danger in Alan or Galen knowing the truth, Charlie.  They’ll keep our secret, won’t you?”

  Alan nodded.  “You know I’d never knowingly endanger your family, Virgil.  Nor would Pete or Galen.”

  “Yes, I do know that,” the old man said.  “Basically, Micah understood that we were different from the humans of this world and, during our first few years together, he watched us work and build and saw that our knowledge far exceeded his.  We constructed this entire sector in just five years, and he allowed us to run it for him while he posed as the great and all-powerful Lord Micah.  As the years went by, we added more humans to the ‘family’ and expanded our borders until he was, indeed, the most powerful and richest ape in the known world.  When there was a problem we couldn’t solve because we were human, Micah stepped in and remedied the situation.  We played this charade successfully for nearly thirty years.”

  “And then what happened?”

  Virgil appeared grieved.  “One day, just like all old apes and old humans, Micah died.”

  “But, if I understand you correctly, that was over a decade ago.  You’ve managed to pretend he’s still alive all these years?”

  Virgil nodded.  “I’ve used the threat of his power to keep other apes from coming here and taking away everything we’ve built.”

 “How?  By killing them like you did Gunter and Odiah?”

 The overseer shook his head.  He glanced knowingly at his wife.  “Guess we’re not as smart as we thought we were, Charlie.  Alan’s been here only a little while, yet he’s already seen through most all of our secrets.”

 “Then you have been killing the apes who come here?” Alan went on.

 Across the table a troubled Galen started to speak, but Virgil continued.

  “No, we do NOT kill all apes who come here.  We welcome them with open arms.  We wine them and dine them and throw parties for them and, when they leave us, they’re well fed and happy … and very much alive.  And they depart with the impression that Lord Micah is one lucky ape to have us here to serve him.  But, in the ten years since Micah died, there have been only two incidents where we’ve actually had to kill in order to keep what we have or protect our own.”

  “Then you did kill those three apes.”

  “Yes,” Virgil said regretfully.  “It was unavoidable, Alan.  If we had allowed Odiah to continue beating Pete, our young friend would’ve died right there in the courtyard.  I couldn’t just stand idly by and allow it to happen, not to … not to Pete.”

 “I understand,” Alan said quietly.  “Galen and I would’ve done the same thing.  But won’t their sudden disappearance bring more apes to the sector?”

  “Probably.  But we’ve got our story ready.  We escorted three well-fed, healthy apes off the sector and pointed them toward Lord Micah’s larger greathouse to the north.  And that’s the last we saw of them.  Most local apes are unwilling to follow up any story that ends with Lord Micah.  It’s safer and simpler for them to just believe that their fellow apes got lost or joined Lord Micah’s family or disappeared into thin air.”

 Virgil stared directly into Alan’s eyes, and the blond astronaut was overcome again with a discomfiting feeling.  Virgil’s eyes penetrated into his very soul, scanning every detail of his past, sharing every emotion of his present.  He squirmed uncomfortably and was thankful when Trina’s entrance into the room broke the stare.

  “I couldn’t get him to take much,” the girl said, placing a tray of half-eaten food on the counter.

  “I think I upset him,” Galen said, wiping his snout with the napkin and pushing his plate away.  “Thank you for this lovely dinner, Charlie.  It’s the best food I’ve had in a long, long time.  I believe I’ll go back upstairs now and talk to Pete.  I’d like to make …”

  “No!” Trina’s voice was emphatic, and all eyes turned to her in shocked surprise.  “I mean,” she stammered, obviously searching for words.  “He’s … asleep right now.  He shouldn’t be disturbed.”

 “I see,” Galen said intuitively and turned his eyes on Virdon.

  “How about some dessert?” Charlie said quickly, changing the direction of the conversation.

Alan pulled away from the table, stretched languidly, and rubbed his long legs.  “I think I’ll forego dessert tonight, Charlie.  I’ve eaten enough food for two people.”  He turned to his chimpanzee friend.  “Galen?  How about it?  Charlie makes a mean pear pie.”

 The young ape bounced puzzled looks from Virdon to the overseer’s wife and then back to his human friend.  He seemed unsure of himself.  Finally, he said, “Alan, I’m not really familiar with that kind of fruit.  Tell me, what are ‘mean pears’?”

 Virdon smiled at the expected response.  “It’s just an expression, Galen.  It means her pear pies taste wonderful.”

 “Well, why didn’t you just say so,” Galen said, picking up on the game he had sorely missed playing.  He beamed at Charlie.  “Of course, I’d love a nice, large piece.  Thank you.”

          “Alan, I’m sure the three of you have an awful lot of catching up to do, so the family will leave you to yourselves this evening. I know Pete’s still bedridden so, if you’d like, Arvid can serve dessert in your room.”

 Again, Virdon felt the familiar discomfort rising as Virgil’s intuitiveness struck a nerve.  He quelled his uneasiness, forced himself to reply in a natural voice.  “Thank you, Virgil.  We’re very grateful to you.”

 “No need for gratitude, Alan.  It’s enough just having you here,” the old man said, his eyes suddenly bright with emotion.

  “Well,” Charlie said, pushing back noisily from the table, “I’ll go make Galen’s room ready for him.  I think we’ll put you right next door to Pete and Alan, if that’s all right with you.”

  Galen laughed self-consciously.  “Considering where I’ve been sleeping these past few weeks, any place inside, out of the cold weather, will be wonderful.”

 The young ape stood, joined Virdon, and both exited through the parlor door.

 Virgil stepped into the sitting room and watched with mixed emotions as the ape and human ascended the stairs.  Unexpectedly, an arm encircled his waist, startling him momentarily.  His wife squeezed him affectionately, and he reciprocated, pulling her into a gentle embrace.  “I guess they’ll be leaving us now, Charlie, and there’s not a thing I can do about it.”

 “You knew it had to end like this, Virgil.  As much as we want it, they can’t stay here.  Alan’s already discovered the more obvious deceptions.  It wouldn’t take much more time before he’d find out the truth about us.  They have to leave … and soon!  It’s just much too dangerous for all of us if they stay.”

 “I know,” the old man said morosely, “but it’s been such a very short visit.  And after what happened to Pete, I … I just wish I could …”

 “Well, you can’t,” his wife said, abruptly pulling out of the embrace and staring pointedly up at her husband.  She put her small fists on her hips.  “Did you know that your daughter’s in love with him?”

 Virgil looked away, gazing back at the parlor door.  “I suspected as much, but I’ve also noticed he doesn’t seem to return her affection.”

 “He’s still grieving over his losses but, they share many things, Virgil, and you know if he stayed, it would only be a matter of time before they would … go too far.  We can’t allow that to happen.”

 “I know,” the old overseer’s voice sounded hollow in the vacant kitchen.  “But now, with their friend’s arrival, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll leave.”

  “We’ll make the most of it,” Charlie said, hugging him once more.  “Now, come on!  I’ll give you a big piece of my … what did Alan call it?  ‘Mean pear pie.’”

 Virgil smiled and followed her back into the kitchen.

It took nearly an hour for Alan to report the dinner conversation to Burke and fill Galen in on everything that had happened since their separation.  The young ape sat spellbound throughout the entire narrative, reacting to each revelation with a wrinkle of his snout or a furrow of his brow.  When Virdon launched into a description of Pete’s beating and resulting illness, the chimpanzee’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and he periodically cast furtive sympathetic glances toward his dark-haired friend.

 Burke, wrapped in a robe three sizes too large for him, sat steadfastly silent in Charlie’s chair, absently rocking back and forth.  At first, attentive and alert while listening to the information gleaned from Virgil, he grew seemingly ill at ease when Virdon turned the narrative to his own punishment by Odiah.  He visibly paled at Alan’s account of his ordeal and ignored the dessert plate delivered by Arvid.

 “… and we had just about decided erroneously, that our friend, Virgil, had done away with you when you finally showed up here.  So, that’s basically what’s happened to us since we last laid eyes on you,” Alan finished.

 Shaking his head, Galen drew in a deep breath and let it whoosh out.  “It’s amazing to think that there are really others just like you here, and that they’ve been here longer than I’ve been alive.  It’s even more amazing to see what they’ve accomplished.  I find Virgil and his family fascinating.  I hope I’ll have time to talk with them all and see this place before we leave.”

  “I’ll ask Virgil to give you the royal tour.  I think you’ll find it as fascinating as Pete and I did.”

 “I don’t remember being that fascinated, Burke said quietly.  He reached for the mug of tea Arvid had left sitting on the night table.

 “Here, Pete, let me help you,” Galen said, also reaching out to grasp the mug.  The ape’s hairy fingers accidentally brushed against Burke’s hand, and the man flinched, pulling immediately away from the touch and knocking Galen’s hand sideways into the mug.  It crashed loudly to the floor, spilling lukewarm tea in all directions and exploding into a hundred tiny pieces.

  “I’m … I’m sorry, Pete.  How clumsy of me,” the chimpanzee said, falling to his knees.

 Burke leaned back into the chair, breathing quickly, anxiety evident in his face and stance. 

 Concerned, Alan drew closer.  “Pete, what’s wrong.”

 “I …” Burke stopped, cleared his throat and continued.  “I don’t know why I did that, Galen.  I’m sorry, I didn’t …”  Embarrassed, his voice trailed off into silence.

  “Perhaps I should let you rest.  It’s getting late, and I know you’re very tired.”

  “Yes, I’m … quite tired …”

  Holding on to several broken pieces of the mug, Galen looked around for a place to deposit them.

  “The trash can is in the corner, Galen,” Alan said, mopping up the tea with a clean towel. “I’ll show you where you can wash up.”

  Galen deposited the broken mug and started to follow Virdon out the door.  He paused, cast a sideward glance at the young astronaut.  “Good night, Pete.  I hope you’ll feel better in the morning.”

 Burke couldn’t bring himself to raise his eyes.  “Good night, Galen.  It’s good to have you back with us.”  It was obvious he was forcing the words.

 Galen followed Alan into the bathroom and viewed the unusual system of indoor plumbing with mounting curiosity.  Listening to Virdon’s explanation of each appliances use, he displayed proper astonishment over Virgil’s implementation of a sophisticated displacement design.  He toyed with the faucets and marveled at the hot and cold running water but, beneath the façade of fascination, Virdon could see his ape friend was preoccupied with other thoughts.

 “Alan,” Galen finally said, almost in a whisper.  “What’s wrong with Pete?”

  Virdon wrung out the tea-stained towel and hung it up to dry.  “I don’t know for sure, Galen,” he began carefully.  “But I’m beginning to have a theory.  I believe it may have something to do with the fact that the ape who abused Pete was a chimpanzee.  And before that he was tortured by Wanda, another chimpanzee.”  He paused at  the crestfallen look that suddenly dominated the ape’s face.  “You know it’s not you personally, Galen.”

  “Yes, I can understand that,” the ape said in a small voice.  “But it IS me collectively and, if Pete can’t even stand the sight of me, then how can we hope to continue on together.  I must find some way to rebuild his trust.”

 “Give him time to work it out, Galen.  Pete’s a strong man, inside and out.  He’ll be okay.”

 “But he can’t do it alone, Alan.  I’ll have to help him.”

 Virdon put a comforting hand on the young ape’s shoulder.  “We’ll both help him,” he said with a reassuring smile.

  November passed away quietly and, with the teasing snowflakes of early December hinting at a long, dangerously cold winter, Virgil’s family, along with Alan, Galen, and later Pete, worked even harder at readying the sector for what was to come.  The shorter days were filled with the many monotonous tasks that, in the long run, would spell the difference between extinction and survival.

 By day, the able-bodied men and women chopped and gathered wood, piling the neatly split logs in tall, evenly spaced stacks.  All human and animal dwellings were checked for leaks and drafts, with windows and doors sealed for protection against the elements.  The more delicate farm animals were rounded up and deposited in various barns and corrals.  Other, hardier animals were driven south and set free to fend for themselves until spring thaw.

 Inside the greathouse, Charlie’s stove burned unceasingly, filling the rooms with mouth-watering smells as the women readied fruits, vegetables and meats for storage in the caves and underground burrows surrounding the sector.  Behind the large structure, two other fires were tended round the clock.  Long strips of lean beef, plump turkeys and gutted fish hung from well-placed hooks on the ceilings of twin smokehouses.  It would take several days and nights of almost constant care, but the resulting slow-cooked , flavorful meats would feed the sector population for a very long time.

 Evenings again found the family and their guests in the warmth of the bright parlor.  While the women busied themselves at mending torn and frayed garments or constructing new ones, Virgil, Angus, the two astronauts, and Galen, spent their time mapping out the surrounding territory for their upcoming journey.

  “I believe this location used to be either the northern tip of California or southeastern Oregon.  Of course, I can’t be exact what with the subtle change of star positions and the differing climate and vegetation, but that’s as close as I can come to determining our position,” Virgil said, drawing unintelligible lines on a large sheet of paper.

 Galen and Alan hunkered around the long sofa table, while an almost recovered Burke sat, long legs folded indian-style, on the opposite side.  Virgil and Angus had taken up positions at both ends.

  “So, when we leave next week, we need to keep a northwesterly direction, and that should lead us straight to Seattle.”

  The overseer nodded and fingered his beard thoughtfully.  “The only real obstacle I’m aware of is a mountain range directly to the north of us,” he said, drawing a crude, zigzag line across the middle of the developing map.  “It seems to go on forever, and I’m not certain just how large it really is.  Then, there are several bodies of water to the south and southeast of the mountain range.”  He drew a large crescent that took up most of the top and right side of the paper.  “I believe they may have been part of Oregon’s Crater Lakes, but I can’t be certain.  You swam in one of them when you and Trina went looking for the shuttle, Pete.”

 Burke shook his curly head from side to side.  “Then it couldn’t have been Crater Lake, Virgil,” Pete said, his eyes scanning the crudely drawn map.  He laid his finger on the site and continued.  “Because if it is, someone dumped a shitload of salt in it.”

  “Salt water?  This far inland?”  Virdon said anxiously.  “Could you possibly be a few hundred kilometers off on your location, Virgil?”

  “No.  I know what you’re thinking, Alan, but I don’t believe that’s the Great Salt Lake out there.  I’m pretty sure they’re what’s left of those inland lakes.  When Charlie and I landed here, the particular section was nothing but dry, desert-like terrain.  Now, after four decades of wind, storms and continual earthquakes, my shuttle’s embedded in a mountain of boulders and surrounded by a moat of salt water.  Some of the soil in this area has a very heavy concentration of natural salt in it, so that could explain the contents.  Either that, or the ancient soothsayers were wrong when they predicted that California would fall into the sea.  If that’s the Atlantic Ocean out there, then everything else fell in except California.”  Virgil smiled and went back to drawing the map.

  From his position on the floor, Pete suddenly brought a hand up to stifle a huge yawn.  Although almost fully recovered, he still tired easily, and it had been a lengthy day.  He yawned again and slowly began to disentangle his long legs.  “Well, it’s been fun, boys and girls … and chimp … but I think it’s time for this poor abused body to retire for the evening.  If you two actually expect me to try to make it all the way to Seattle without a trail bike, then I’m going to need my beauty sleep,” he said, struggling to get to his feet.

The chimpanzee was beside him in an instant.  Galen held out a hairy paw, and Burke’s momentary hesitation and split-second flinch were apparent to no one in the room but Virdon.  Reaching out, the dark-haired astronaut forced himself to take the ape’s hand in his own, allowing Galen to pull him into an upright position.

  The young ape relinquished his human friend’s hand almost immediately, but his intuitive action backfired.  Wobbly from remaining in a fixed seated position, Burke took a single step forward and staggered.  Both Virdon and Angus moved to catch him, but Galen was already there.  Grabbing Burke, he encircled the man’s slender hips with a long, hairy arm, gripped the reluctant hand again, and led him firmly and purposefully toward the stairs.

 Burke opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it when Alan winked and shot him an encouraging grin.  Sighing, he allowed himself to lean on the muscular chimpanzee and be half-dragged, half-carried up the stairs.

 Once inside the darkened upstairs bedroom, Galen withdrew his support and busied himself turning up the flames in each of the wall lanterns.

 Now steady on his feet, Burke crossed the floor to the chest of drawers, grabbed a fresh nightshirt, and threw it over the bedpost.  With his back to the ape, he began to undress, tugging at the sweater and makeshift undershirt.  They tangled together as he struggled ineffectually to pull them over his head.

  “Here, let me help you,” the chimpanzee said, crossing the room and reaching out to yank the tails of both sweater and shirt upwards.  As he did, he got his first look at the astronaut’s ravaged back.  Ugly pink scars crisscrossed deeply across the young human’s back, and Galen stood, stunned and sickened, frozen to the spot.

  “Thanks for the assist, Galen.  I probably could’ve gotten them off on my own, but I’m still a bit sore so … I appreciate it,” Burke said offhandedly, reaching for the nightshirt.  As he did, he felt a hairy hand tentatively touch his naked back.  Startled, he jerked away and swiveled around.

 Galen stood directly in front of him, his arm still poised in mid-air, an expression of shock and horror on his face.  “Pete …”  The open anguish in the single spoken word hung heavily in the room.  “ ... I’m sorry.  I didn't realize how very badly you had been lashed.  I'm so ... ashamed ... that one of my own kind could do such a thing.”

 Burke hurriedly shrugged into the nightshirt and pulled it down quickly to cover his scarred back.  Not knowing what else to say, he finally stammered out, “It’s okay, Galen.  I’m all right now.”

 The chimpanzee looked up at him with somber, dark brown eyes.  “Are you, Pete?  Are you really?” he said sadly, then turned away and shuffled slowly out the door.

 At the ape’s departure, an immense relief crested over him , and Burke felt his body relax.  Although it was still an effort to control his involuntary repulsion of the chimpanzee, he knew he was mastering it.  He no longer automatically recoiled at Galen’s approach or cringed away from his touch.  His heart occasionally skipped a beat if the ape showed up unexpectedly, but even that reaction had been alleviated by Galen’s intuitive understanding of the situation.  Rather than appearing all of a sudden, the ape would vocally announce himself before his arrival.

  It was going to take time and effort to get over the abuse he had endured.  But he also knew he had the support and encouragement of his two friends to help him.

  ‘No, Galen,’ he said to himself, ‘I’m not all right.  But I’m getting better every day.’

  He smiled inwardly, extinguished all the wall lanterns, and climbed into bed.

 Galen’s requested tour of Virgil’s sector and the already planned departure of the three friends were delayed for two additional weeks by inclement weather.  Freezing rain and snow fell intermittently from the heavy, dark clouds that habitually covered the sky.  But by mid-December of Virgil’s calendar, scant days away from what would have been the official beginning of winter, the cloud, precipitation and cold finally relented.

 The dawn of a cloudless near spring-like day brought the family and villagers scurrying from the forced confinement of their houses.  Charlie, Arvid and several other women ventured out, trekking to the nearby caves and underground burrows to collect food supplies, while Angus and John led an expedition of men south to check on the herds of larger animals and repair any damage to fences or buildings.

 With Arvid taking a much-needed day off from her learning house, Virgil had no trouble finding eager, young family members afflicted with cabin fever to accompany the three of them on the planned day-long tour and picnic.

 Rising late, Burke stepped out onto the large porch and squinted his eyes against the unaccustomed brightness of the winter sun.  He stood watching the bustling activity below and nibbled absently on a cold fruit pie.

  “Come on, Pete,” Alan yelled, gesturing for his friend to join them.  “Climb in!  We’ll make room.”

  “You know I hate reruns,” the dark-haired man replied, vehemently shaking his head.

  Virdon waved both hands at him, feigning exasperation, then both he and Galen clutched at their seats as Virgil called to the oxen.  The strong, husky animals abruptly lurched forward, and Burke grinned and waved cheerfully.

  “Why don’t you go with them, Pete?”  Trina said suddenly from behind him.

 Startled at her presence, the dark-haired man swiveled around.  Trina smiled up at him from her comfortable position on the porch swing and continued clicking her knitting needles rapidly together.

 “You know Virdon’s the farmer, Trina, not me,” he said, smiling back and moving to sit beside her.  He watched intently as she yanked and stretched the nubby wool yawn to fit the gauge of her planned garment.

   “What are you making this time?”

  “A sweater for you.”

  “Another one?” Pete said in a pleased, but puzzled voice.

  “Of course.  You’ll need at lest two – a thick one for winter and a thinner one for spring.  Even when the snows have melted, it’s still quite cool and, after tomorrow, you won’t have the greathouse fires to come home to anymore.”  She stilled her frantic finger movements, laid the unfinished garment in her lap, and looked Burke directly in the eyes.  “Unless you’ve dome to your senses and decided to stay here with … us.”

  At this, Burke looked at the porch ceiling and sighed heavily.  “You still don’t understand, do you, Trina?  More than anything else in the world, I’d love to stay here with you and your family … if nothing else, for the good food.  But Virdon’s got an itch that’s driving him nuts, and I’m the only person in this world who can help him scratch it.”

  “He has Galen,” the girl said, maneuvering the yarn and beginning a new row.

 At this, Burke grew thoughtful for a moment.  Finally, he said, “And he has me … until he comes to his senses.”

  “Or until the apes finally catch you and kills you,” Trina said defeatedly.

  “That too,” Burke said honestly.

  “Oh, Pete, why do you follow your friend’s empty dream?  Don’t you have dreams of your own?”

  “The only dream I ever had was to get the hell out of Jersey City and become an astronaut.  And, thanks to Alan, I did.  He was there for me when I needed him and, as I see it, I’m just returning the favor.  Trina, don’t you see?  It’s not an empty dream to Virdon.  The hope of finding his way back to his wife and son is the only thing keeping him going.  If he lost that … I don’t think he’d want to live.  He’s in a transition period right now, hovering between acceptance and denial..  He can’t be rushed from one to the other without something important giving way.”

  “So, you’ll follow him until he finally gives up.  For how long, Pete?”

 “However long its takes.”

 It was just before lunch when two apes on horseback unexpectedly arrived at the sector.  They galloped determinedly into the courtyard, stopping abruptly at the base of the porch.  Dismounting, they scanned the area, noting the absence of any working humans or supervising apes; then, without knocking, they barged into the greathouse.  Finding the parlor empty, the two gorillas continued through the large room and barreled into the kitchen.

 Startled by this sudden intrusion, Trina dropped the spoon with which she had been stirring a boiling pot of chicken stew.”

  “Human, where is your overseer?” Junot, the larger of the two gorillas asked.

  It took a moment for her to compose herself and, as she bent down to retrieve the spoon, the smaller ape, Herand, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her upwards into a standing position.

  “Junot asked you a question, girl.  Where is your overseer?”

  Trina pasted a sick smile on her face and swallowed.  “Good morning, sirs,” she said in a shaky voice.  “Overseer Virgil has  gone to one of the far fields this day. May I be of service?”

 The apes scanned the interior of the greathouse kitchen with their little black eyes, registering the beauty and unexpected sophistication of the room.  The smaller gorilla turned his gaze back on Trina.  “We seek three members of our collection crew who are overdue to return.  Two gorillas, Gunter and Hector, and Odiah, a chimpanzee accountant.”

   “They were here, sir, and left … several weeks ago.”

    “You say they left?” the larger gorilla sniffed and wiped at his runny nose with the back of his hairy hand.

    “Yes, sir.”

   “You lie, girl!  If our friends had left your sector that long ago, they would’ve returned to their homes and families by now.  Hector’s wife is expecting a child, and he would be there to welcome his new son.  Now, where are they?”

  The second gorilla started forward threateningly, but the first one motioned for him to wait.

   “This is your last chance, human.  Tell us where our friends have gone.”

   Trina tried to retreat a couple of steps, but the strong hand holding her hair yanked her back to her original position.  “I’m … I’m sorry, but I can’t be of any more …”

   “What the girl says is the truth!”  A stern-faced Burke suddenly appeared outside the screen door.  He entered the kitchen, haphazardly tossing the load of wood he’d retrieved into a bucket near the stove, and moved to stand protectively beside Trina.  “The apes came for the harvest crops, collected them, and departed for Lord Micah’s northernmost sector over thirty days ago.  If you leave now and return to your village, you will probably find them there waiting for you.”  The young astronaut’s voice was strong, belying his shaking knees.  His stomach contracted painfully into tight knots of unaccustomed fear, but he forced himself to stand his ground.

  “I don’t think I like you, human,” the flanking gorilla growled, starting toward Burke.

 Rising terror at the mere presence of these apes in the same room made him hesitate but only for a moment.  A strong surge of self-directed anger, aimed at his own perceived weakness, brought a characteristically flippant reply.  “I seem to have that effect on a lot of apes.  Maybe it’s my deodorant.  I’d ask you to recommend a new brand, but I see you’re having the same problem.”

  “I don’t understand the meaning of your words, human,” the smaller gorilla said in a too-quiet voice.  “Perhaps I can persuade you to translate them to me.”

 Burke’s mouth went dry and cottony, and he felt his body tense; his hands automatically closed into fists for what he knew would be an abbreviated skirmish.  They were going to beat the hell out of him … again … and the thoughts of those large, hairy fists pummeling his body terrified him.  Involuntarily, he backed up a step, then felt his cheeks flame with humiliation.

  “Sir … please … he didn’t mean to …”  Trina began, but a heavy-handed slap stifled the rest of her plea.  Her body was propelled backward, and she landed hard on her behind on the rough, plank flooring.  Her shoulder impacted with the corner of the hot stove, and she helped in pain.  As she recovered and began to get to her feet, out of the corner of her eye, Trina saw Burke’s retreat become an abrupt advance.  He moved forward threateningly as if to pounce on one of the gorillas.  “Pete!  No!” she screamed.

 Her warning came too late.  Both gorillas had already noted Burke’s aggressive stance, and they reacted similarly.  Junot struck first, kicking out with a heavy, booted foot that impacted solidly in Pete’s groin.

  Burke’s breath left his body in a whistling gush of agonized air.  His knees buckled and, in slow motion, he went down, hunkering over into a protective posture.  He huddled on the floor, paralyzed with pain, fighting for breath, and when the larger ape pulled him up by his elbows and pinned his arms painfully behind his back, he didn’t have the strength to protest.

  “Teach this one a lesson, Herand, but don’t kill him.  We certainly don’t want to offend Lord Micah.”

 The smaller gorilla grinned and enthusiastically buried his fist in the middle of Burke’s torso; a second blow connected with the young astronaut’s jaw.  He continu4ed battering the semi-conscious astronaut until the larger ape grew tired.

   “Enough!” Junot roared, abruptly releasing the sagging human.

  Burke slid heavily to the floor and lay unmoving.

  “Pete!”  Trina whispered, crawling forward until she reached the unconscious man.  She draped her slim body protectively over his.  “Please,” she begged tearfully, staring up at them with large, frightened eyes.  “We can tell you nothing more of your friends.”

 They had forgotten about her, but her words reminded them of her presence.  Both turned their malevolent eyes and attentions toward Trina and, they had begun to advance on her, when an authoritative voice came from the parlor door.

  “What’s going on here?” Galen, a fierce expression dominating his face, stood at the entrance to the kitchen.  Directly behind him stood an ashen-faced Virdon.  At the chimpanzee’s question, all occupants froze in their respective positions.

 “Ah, a fellow ape in this sea of humans!”  The larger gorilla nodded cordially toward Galen.  “I am Junot, this is Herand.  We are in search of our friends, Hector and Gunter, two gorillas, and their accountant, Odiah, a chimpanzee. We have followed their collection trail to this sector.  These two humans lied, telling us that they left here many weeks ago but, if they did, they would surely have returned home by now.”

  “And you do not believe my humans?”

   “Your humans?  Your … humans?”  Junot, the larger gorilla, said.  His voice was laced with suspicion and shock.  The other ape seemed anxious and, as the two whispered between themselves, Junot’s expression changed from doubt to apprehension.

  While the two discussed his sudden appearance on the scene, Galen’s mind sifted frantically through his memory of Virgil’s account of Lord Micah.

 Behind him, a concerned Virdon tried to move around the chimpanzee to go into the kitchen, but Galen stopped him with a curt shake of his head.

  “But, Pete’s …”

   “Hush, human!” Galen said harshly.  He ignored the flash of anger that flared and died in an instant on Alan’s face.  His mind was whirling, and he continued to glare intensely at the now nervous simians.  He turned his back on Virdon, dismissing him with his voice and his stance, and finally said, “Well, technically, they belong to my father, Lord Micah. I am his eldest son, Seth.”  He threw both gorillas a look of contempt.

   “Oh,” the large gorilla said, obviously relieved.  “I apologize for my rudeness to you, sir, but there is great distress among the families of these apes.”

  “I can understand their concern, but that doesn’t give you the right to enter my father’s house and damage his property.”

   “They were insolent!” Junot said, defensively.  “We took care not to permanently injure them.  The punishment was designed to hurt, not maim.”

 “If either of them are harmed, my father will seek you out himself for retribution. Lord Micah spent a lot of money and time on these slaves, and he doesn’t like to see any of it wasted.”  Galen moved aside and gestured for Virdon to enter.  “Take care of them, Alan.”

 Keeping his head lowered and eyes focused only on Burke and Trina, Virdon hurried past the gorillas to the inert Pete and still shaken teenager.

  “Are you all right, Trina?” Virdon threw the whispered question over his shoulder as he scanned his friends for wounds.

 “Only bruised,” she whispered back.  She cradled Burke’s head on her lap, gently stroking his hair.  “Is he hurt badly?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he said, not lifting his head from his continuing examination.

 The nervous gorillas watched Virdon’s movements anxiously, then Herand turned to Seth/Galen.  “Sir, we didn’t mean to harm your father’s humans.  We were careful in our discipline.  We only came to check on the whereabouts of our friends.  If you can help us, we will be on our way.”

  The young chimpanzee narrowed his eyes.  “It is as my humans stated.  Your three friends left here for my father’s house weeks ago.  Where they roamed after that, I can’t say.  If you wish, I can have one of my humans guide you to Lord Micah’s greathouse.  I’m sorry I can’t spare more, but my father is in a foul mood.  These humans didn’t exceed the quota this year, and I’ve been sent to see to it that they don’t shirk their responsibilities this next growing season.”

 “Yes, I can understand how he would want you to provide the proper guidance and motivation,” Junot agreed, obviously delighted at the sudden turn of the conversation.  He turned his head, held another quick discussion with his companion, and returned his attention to Seth/Galen.  “It will not be necessary for one of your humans to accompany us to your father’s house.  Gunter and his team surely have already arrived home by now.  We apologize again for the damage to your father’s humans and for interrupting their work, Seth.”

 Galen thrust his chin out and nodded.  He suddenly clapped his hands furiously and shouted at Trina.  “Go on, back to work you lazy, good-for-nothing girl.  Alan will care for Pete.”  Turning away from the scene, he gestured to the two gorillas.  “I’ll see you to your horses,” he said, as a way of dismissing the two apes quickly.  He stepped aside to let them precede him into the parlor, then glanced back at the three humans.

 Still shaken by the experience, Trina bit back tears and used her shirt to dab at a trickle of blood at Burke’s mouth.

  “Is he all right?” Galen asked clandestinely, eyeing the front door as the two gorillas exited the greathouse.

   “I don’t know yet, Galen.  I can’t find any broken bones, but we’ll have to wait until he come around to know for certain.”

  “They beat him and kicked him,” Trina sobbed.

  “I’ll make certain they leave, then I’ll be back to help,” Galen said, disappearing into the parlor.

 Burke suddenly stirred.  As consciousness returned, his face contorted into a pained expression.  “Ohhhh, God,” he breathed.

   “Easy, Pete.  Try to lie still, and just tell me where it hurts so I can check you over.”

 The dark-haired man obeyed gratefully.  “It’d be easier to tell you where it doesn’t,” he whispered, letting his head sink back onto Trina’s lap.  He stared up into her wide, concerned eyes.  “Trina, you okay?”

  She nodded, then bit her bottom lip to halt its trembling.  “I didn’t want them to hurt you again.”

  “It’s all right.  It’s not your fault,” Burke said soothingly.  He gasped as Alan’s probing fingers touched a sore spot.  “That’s definitely … one of the places,” he said through clenched teeth.

 Virdon shook his head sympathetically.  “What did you do to antagonize them, Pete?”

   “Who knows?” Burke said tiredly.  “Just remind me not to deal with another gorilla until I take a short course in tact and ape diplomacy.”

  “Think you can sit up?”

   “I’ll try,” Pete said, allowing Alan to pull him into a sitting position.  He swayed for a moment, recovered his balance, then looked quizzically at his friend.  “What are you doing back here already?  I thought you’d be gone the whole day.”

  “Lucky for you, one of the wagon wheels broke.  Galen and I jogged back to fetch another one.”

  “Yeah … lucky me,” Burke said.  He heaved himself into a wobbly, standing position, took a tentative step, straightened painfully, then hobbled toward the parlor entrance.

 Trina stood and hurried toward Burke.  She draped one of his arms around her shoulder and encircled his waist with her own arm.  “Let me help you.”

  The dark-haired man smiled gratefully, turned and flashed Virdon an amused grain.  “I’m okay, Trina.  I think I can make it by myself,” he said, working to disentangle himself from her motherly grasp. He swiveled sideways, then turned back toward the parlor.  As he swung around, a brown-and-green blur barreled into the kitchen, knocking Burke and Trina unceremoniously to the floor.

  “Oh, Pete!  Trina!  I’m so sorry.”  Appalled, Galen regained his own balance and reached out a hairy paw to help the young astronaut up.  J”I just now managed to get rid of those two nasty gorillas, and I was trying to get back here to see if …”  He stopped in mid-sentence and viewed Burke’s face curiously.  The dark-haired man was staring up at him, his brown eyes wide and frightened.  “Pete?  Are you all right?”

   “Alan?”  Burke sought his blond friend with his eyes.  “Get him away from me.  Please!  Get him away.  Now!”

 Before Virdon could react, Trina surged forward and attacked the chimpanzee.  She flailed her long arms, battering Galen’s face and torso and kicking out with her legs.  “Don’t you touch him!  He’s had enough of your kind.  Why don’t you just go away and leave us alone!”

  “Trina!”  Alan yelled her name, but she ignored him and continued to beat her fists against the young chimpanzee’s raised paws.

  Galen staggered backwards, retreating from the steady rain of fists and feet.

 Then, just as abruptly as the storm had begun, it ended.  The girl stood still, her arms hung limply at her sides.

Burke forced himself to his feet again and moved to stand behind her.  He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, and she reacted by turning immediately and burying her face in his chest.

 “Don’t go with them tomorrow!  You’ll die out there.  Stay with me, Pete.  I don’t want you to go.  Please!  Please!!”  Her voice broke into heartwrenching sobs, and her arms clung to him fiercely, protectively.

   “Trina.”  He whispered her name softly, caressing the two syllables.

 The girl only sobbed harder.  “Don’t leave me, Pete.  I don’t want you to die.  Stay, please!  I love you.  I’ll work the rest of my life to be a good wife.  You could be happy here with me.  Why do you want to leave here?  It’s certain death if you go with them.  You know it.  YOU KNOW IT!”

  They stood in the same position for what seemed a very long time, with Trina crying softly and clinging tightly to Burke.  The young astronaut stroked her long hair, holding her firmly to him.

 “Trina …” he began again, but she shook her head, dismissing the unwanted words.

 “With them is only death.  Grow old with me,” she whispered, moving her lips to his neck and kissing him lightly.  She pulled back and let her eyes bore into his.

 Burke stared intently into her tear-streaked face.  He didn’t look away; he knew if he chanced to meet Virdon’s gaze, his resolution would waver.  And there was another whose eyes he couldn’t even force himself to look into anymore.

 Trina was the first to see and feel the change.  As peace of mind descended on the man to whom she clung desperately, she felt his muscles relax.  Loosening her grip, she stepped backward and allowed a hint of a smile to trace her lips.  “Grandpa Virgil says sometimes the eyes are a mirror to the soul and, right now, I can see all the way down into yours, Peter Burke.  You’re going to stay with me and become one of our family, aren’t you?”

 Burke couldn’t break the hypnotic grip of her moist, amber eyes.  He said simply, “I’ll stay.”

  With a squeal of delight, Trina pushed back into his arms and turned her face upward.  She pressed her lips to his, and he returned the kiss, pulling her closer.  All the anguish and guilt of his decision flowed into the embrace, and when Burke released her, Trina staggered with the intensity of his emotions.

   “Come on,” she said, victoriously, totally ignoring Galen and Virdon.  “I’ll take you upstairs to rest.”

 Leaning heavily on the girl, Burke passed the blond astronaut with lowered lids.  He forced himself to lift his eyes once, and he found himself face-to-face with his human friend.  Virdon’s expression spoke volumes of disappointment, grief, indecision, yet Alan still managed an encouraging nod and a grim smile.

 Burke compelled his lips to turn slightly upwards, but he couldn’t manage even a half-grin.  He aimed his eyes back toward the floor, eased around the rigid, silent chimpanzee, and allowed himself to be led from the room.

  It was early evening when a hesitant Galen knocked softly on the already opened door and peered into the darkness of the hushed bedroom.  “Pete, may I come in?”

 “Come ahead,” a voice said from the left side of the room.  “Just don’t turn up the lights.  I like it dark like this.”

 The young ape ventured in.  The shadowed silhouette of his human friend bent over the windowsill.  “And that way you won’t have to look at me.”

  There was a poignant silence.  “I’m sorry, Galen,” Burke said at last, “but  I can’t seem to help how I feel.  I’ve tried to fight it, but everything’s just so damned screwed up in my mind right now.”

 “And how does Alan feel about this?”

 “I’ve already spoken to him at length this afternoon.  He’s accepted my decision.  Why can’t you?”

 “Because your reasoning doesn’t quite ring true, my friend.  I’ve spoken to Alan too.  He’s very patiently explained to me that you’ve found happiness here, and you’re going to stay behind, marry Trina, and make a new life for yourself as a farmer.”

  “That is my decision,” Burke said the words without inflection.

 “Pete, you’ve taught me many things over the last few months, and one of them is a word that seems to sum up this entire situation.”

   “Really?  What’s that?”

  “I believe if our situations were reversed you would say to me, ‘Bullshit!’”  Galen waited for a reaction and, when he received none, he plunged on.  “You know as well as I do that becoming a farmer isn’t something that would make the Peter Burke I’ve dome to know live happily ever after.”

  “Maybe the Peter Burke you knew doesn’t exist anymore.”  Burke’s voice rose in volume, but he still maintained control of his emotions.

 Galen tried again.  “Oh, he still exists.  He’s just buried himself beneath several layers of fear and self-pity.  You see, it’s much easier to hide here with a fictional Lord Micah as protector than it is to accompany Alan and me back into what would be certain danger again.  Come on, Pete, we’re just as tired of running as you.  I just can’t understand how you can abandon us now, when Alan feels he’s so close to finding the answers.

  “Virdon will never find the right answer, Galen, and he’ll still be searching for it on the day Urko finally kills him.  If you were truly his friend, you’d talk him into staying here with me.  Arvid is already in love with him; she’d make him a good wife.  We could have a life here.  Out there is … only death.”

   “You don’t know that for certain, Pete.  And what about me?  Since you’ve got your own life and Alan’s already mapped out, what would you suggest I do for the rest of my days?  There’s nothing for me here.”

  “Sure there is,” the younger man said with a growing enthusiasm.  “Alan told me you’ve already played the part to perfection.  You could stay here and run the place as Micah’s son.  I’m sure Virgil would agree to it.  You’d be the richest, most powerful chimpanzee in the world.”

  “And an empty figurehead,” Galen said in a hollow voice.  “Is that truly your wish for me, Pete?  You know I could never live a lie.  When you and Alan showed me the truth about humans and apes, I knew it was impossible for me to stay behind and pretend I didn’t know.  That’s when I decided I had to go with you and Alan to learn more about myself and to teach others, both humans and apes, the truths I’d learned.”  He stopped for a moment, watching as the dark figure shifted position uncomfortably.  The handsome profile turned away.  “And I don’t think you can live a lie either.”

  “I don’t know what you mean, Galen.”

  “Yes, you do.  I’ve never once heard you say you love the girl, Pete.  That’s the single element completely missing from all your accounts of this wonderful new life you’ve mapped out.”

  “Trina is very special to me, Galen.”

   “I know she is, but are you in love with her, Pete?”

  “I care very much for her,” the young astronaut responded.

  “That’s now what I asked.”

  Burke sighed tiredly and cleared his throat.  “I think I’d rather be alone right now, if you don’t mind.”

  “All right.  I’ve leave.  Alan and I still plan to depart first thing tomorrow morning.  If you should happen to change your mind later, Alan says to tell you our plans have changed a bit.  We’re traveling first to a city Alan says was once called Portland, and then we’ll move on to Seattle.  He wants to check the first place out for a knowledge respository.”  Galen waited a moment to see if Burke would reply but, when there was no further response, he walked through the dim light and stood directly in front of his friend.  Knuckling the man’s chest fondly, he smiled.  “I wish you well, Pete.  Have a happy life.”  With that, he turned, left the room, and closed the door quietly behind him.

  Burke stared after him for a long while.  When he finally tried to move, his nearly- healed leg protested.  He stretched it, carefully bending the knee and tentatively lifting his thigh. It ached, but so did his heart.

  He mulled over the chimpanzee’s intuitive words, recalling his earlier conversation with Alan.  His human friend was much too close to the situation; Virdon had loved and lost tragically … recently … and because he still wasn’t over the pain of that loss, Pete had been able to use that fact to both fool him and create empathy.  When he finished his explanation to Alan, he had felt guilty at his own deceit.  But Galen’s intuitiveness had made his thin charade transparent, and that fact both saddened and infuriated him at the same time.

  Another knock at the door disturbed his thoughts.  “Yes,” he said.  The single syllable sounded harsh to his own ears, and he forced himself to relax.  “Yes,” he tried again, and this time his voice was softer, warmer.

   “I’m sorry to disturb you, Pete, but Virgil wants to talk to you. He says it’s urgent,” Alan said.

 He met his best friend’s eyes, ripped his gaze away immediately.  If he was transparent to Galen, he knew it wouldn’t be long before Alan, too, would be able to see through his own pain and discern the truth.  “What does he want?” he said, busying himself with the wall lantern.

  “I don’t know, but it sounded important.  He’s waiting for you in the den.”

  “All right.  I’ll be down in a minute.”

  “I’ll tell him,” the blond said. He turned toward the door, then hesitated, as though he wanted to say more. 

  ‘Please don’t say it.  I don’t think I could stand it if you asked me to come with you,’ the young astronaut thought.

  “Pete.”

 “Yes, Alan.”

  “Don’t let yourself feel guilty about your decision to stay.  If I thought for a minute that you’d come to regret it or that you’d be unhappy here with Trina and Virgil’s family, I’d talk myself blue in the face trying to get you to change your mind and come with us.  To tell you the truth, I envy you; if my own situation were different, I’d probably be doing the same thing.  I promise you this, if and when I decode the disks, I’ll come back and let you know.  Deal?”

  Burke stared at the floor.  He didn’t trust himself to look anywhere else.  He cleared his throat.  “Deal!” he finally said.

   A hand squeezed his shoulder familiarly, carefully patted his healed back.

  “Alan … thanks for understanding.”

 “You’re welcome.  And thanks for all your help these past few months.  I’m going to miss your stupid jokes and your unpredictability.  If nothing else you always made it interesting.”  Virdon saw the curly head bow further.  “Don’t keep Virgil waiting,” he said in a lighter tone.  “I’ll see you at dinner.”

 Burke listened as the sound of Virdon’s footsteps faded away.  When he couldn’t hear them anymore, he forced down the sudden torrent of emotion that threatened to overcome him, slid his bare feet into warm, fur-lined slippers, and headed downstairs.

“Come in, Pete,” came from the other side of the door, and Burke entered the family room.

 The curtains had been drawn, the windows shuttered, and the old man sat, waiting despondently, in the tall-backed, cushioned chair.  He held what appeared to be an old book in his lap, and he stroked it absently.

 “Sit down.  We have to talk about Alan,” he began.

 “What about him?” Burke asked suspiciously as he took a seat on the sofa adjacent to the overseer.

  “You can’t let him go on alone tomorrow.”

  Pete sighed irritably.  “I’ve already been through this once today.”

   “With Alan?”

 “No, with Galen.  Look, Virdon’s a big boy now, Virgil.  Besides, he won’t be alone.  Galen’s going with him.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Pete.  You’re his only living link to where he comes from and where he may one day return.”

   “You don’t really believe that he’ll ever find a way back.”

   “I don’t know what the future holds … except death,” the old man snapped.  “None of us do.  And if there’s not one ounce of hope inside you, you would never have risked your own life to obtain another disk.”

  Taken aback, Burke stammered, “I … did it … because …”

  “You did it for him!  I know that, he knows that, and so do you  I’ve seen the two of you together.  I know how close you are, how close you’ve always been.  How can you let him just walk away without you.  He needs you.  And you need him.”

  Pete rubbed his face tiredly with both hands.  “I know,” he said dismally.  “But, Virgil, maybe if I don’t go with him, he’ll come to his senses sooner and realize that he’s following an empty dream.  I’ve found someone here, someone I can share the rest of my life with, and I don’t have to worry where my next meal is coming from, or if Urko’s around the next corner, or even if I’ll be alive next week.  Maybe … just maybe … if I stay, Alan will find hi way back here one day.  He’s grown quite fond of Arvid. She would be good for him.  She could help him forget what he’s lost, make him happy again.”

   “That’s out of the question, Pete,” the overseer said firmly.

  “Why is it out of the question?  Why is it okay for me to care for Trina, but not for Alan to love Arvid?  I don’t understand you and Charlie!  Virdon’s a good man.  With just a little encouragement from you, he could put Sally behind him.  Oh, I’m not saying he’ll ever forget her or their son, but he could make another life here for himself.  He could be happy again.”

   “He can never marry Arvid, Pete.  I can’t allow it.”

  “Why not?”

  The old man’s lined face crumpled with indecision.  Virgil closed his eyes as if he were in pain and drew in a shuddering breath.  Finally, he answered.  “Because Arvid is Alan’s granddaughter.”

 There was a long pause in the conversation as Burke’s eyes went wide with shock. He shook his head in disbelief and laughed incredulously.  “What?” he said in a shrill voice.

  Virgil smiled sadly and mutely handed Pete the book he held in his lap.

 Burke took the diary-sized book, opened it, and stared at the tattered, old photograph pasted haphazardly on the inside front page.  He squinted at it in the darkness, but the light was too dim to make out the four people standing side-by-side in the photo.  He stood stiffly, stretched his still aching leg, walked awkwardly across the room and held the book close to the table lantern.  He could now make out the group of tow men and two women standing in front of a NASA space shuttle.  There was a petite woman of Asian descent standing next to an African-American male; both beamed in their white NASA-issue uniforms.  The remaining two astronauts, a short, brunette woman and tall, blond male, held hands and smiled toothily at the photographer.

  “It’s Alan, taken sometime before I met him.  I don’t know the other three.”

  “That picture was taken in 1997, Pete.”

  “But we left Earth in 1980.  He couldn’t have been … does this mean … he got back home?”

  Virgil shook his head.  “Read the names.  They’re on the second page.”

  Burke turned the delicate page and looked at the faded ink inscription.  He read aloud, “Discovery II Crew, 21 October 1997, left to right:  Brenda Ito, Virgil Davidson, Charlotte Weston, and Chris Virdon.”  The dark-haired astronaut’s head snapped up.  “Chris Virdon?  Christopher Virdon!”

  “Hello, Uncle Pete.  Long time no see.”

 Blood roared in his hears, the light around him flickered, and Burke stretched a trembling hand to grab at something … anything … to keep himself upright.

  Virgil jumped up and hurried across the room.  He helped Burke back to his seat on the sofa and pushed the man’s head down between his knees.  “I’m sorry, Pete. I never meant for you to find out.  It was enough just to see you and my father again.”

  Several moments passed before Pete managed to sit upright again.

  Virgil watched him worriedly.  “Are you okay?”

 “No, I’m not okay.  I don’t believe any of this.  You can’t be Chris Virdon. You told us you were Virgil Davison.”

 “Virgil died two days after we arrived here.  He had massive internal injuries.  He’s buried under a conjoined pine tree.  Micah never could pronounce Christopher, and he kept confusing my last name with Davidson’s first name, so I just let him call me that.  I didn’t mind.  It’s kind of kept Virgil alive and with us all these years.  As for Brenda, she died in childbirth, along with her child, many, many years ago.”

  “But … how … I don’t understand …”

  “I didn’t either, at first.  We left Canaveral on a gorgeous autumn day in 1997.  We ran into some kind of turbulence three weeks into the mission that knocked us off course and sent us barreling toward Alpha Centauri at a speed the shuttle couldn’t possibly handle.  The next thing we knew, we were here.  You know the rest – Micah found us and took us in.  I finally surmised that since both our ships were pretty much on the same course when we entered the time warp that what happened to us also probably happened to you and my dad.  I never stopped looking for you.  Then, several years ago, Charlie and I concluded that if we both were caught up in a time line, then we must’ve followed a different one, meaning you and dad could’ve arrived here much earlier or much later than we did.  Of course, there was always the possibility that the apes got to you or the crash finished you off, so we had about given up hope when six months ago we heard rumors of two strangers who dropped out of the sky and pissed off the ape hierarchy.  I figured that had to be the two of you, so I started sending Angus out to slave auctions to look for unique humans.  It was dangerous for him to venture too far from Lord Micah’s protection, but I had to be sure it was really you.”

  Still overwhelmed, Burke shook his head in amazement.  “You’ve been waiting for us for over 40 years.”

  Virgil/Chris nodded, and great tears suddenly streamed unhindered down his wrinkled cheeks.

  Burke wiped absently at his own wet face.  “We can’t ever let Alan find out, can we?” he said, bowing his head.

   “No, he must never know …”

  “Sally?  Whatever happened to your mother, Chris?”

 “She was alive and well when I stepped into the space shuttle in 1997.  She never married again and never tried to interfere in my choice of careers, even though I knew she would’ve preferred a doctor or lawyer to another astronaut in the family.  I think mother always thought that someday dad would come home to her.”

  Burke nodded.  “There really is no way I can stay here now, is there.”

  It wasn’t a question.

 “If I do, Alan will definitely return one day and when he does, eventually, he’ll become suspicious.  I know him.  Sometimes he’s just like a dog with only one bone to chew, and he’ll gnaw it until he gets all the way down to the truth.”

  “You know yourself he couldn’t live with the knowledge. I’ve seen that the hope of finding a way back is the only thing keeping him alive right now.  “That … and having you with him.”

 The tears suddenly returned unabated and, this time, Burke ignored them, letting them roll down his cheeks.  “I know.”  He stood and handed the log book out to Virgil/Chris.  “I won’t be needing this where I’m going.  It just might fall into the wrong hands."”

  “No, I want you to keep it.  Read it.  There’s information, coordinates, settings, that you can Alan may find useful if … when … you find a working computer and run the two disks through.  Memorize them all and then destroy the book.”

 “What’ll I tell Alan … or Trina?  Neither one of them is going to accept my sudden change of heart.”

  “Tell them as much of the truth as you can.  You’ve thought it over and decided that the best thing for everyone is to go on with Alan and Galen.  Don’t worry about Trina.  We’ll take good care of her.”

 “She won’t understand,” Burke said with a faraway look in his eyes.

 “But isn’t it better to leave now while you still feel warm toward her.  I know that, in your own way, you do care very much for my granddaughter, but you’re not ‘in love’ with her.  I would hate to see the both of you grow old and miserable together because of your guilty conscience.”

  Startled, Burke looked up.

 “Andrew was in the cave a lot longer than either of you suspected.  You see, I saw you both sneak out after breakfast, and I sent him to bring you back.  Unfortunately, the apes saw you too.  Andrew … told me everything.”  Virgil paused for a long, thought-filled moment.  “Guilt isn’t a very good foundation to build a relationship on, Pete.”

 “I know … I … just thought …”

 The old man stood and moved determinedly toward Burke.  He reached out his arms, and Pete stepped forward, allowing himself to be enfolded into the soft misery of the embrace.

  “I missed you, Uncle Pete,” the old man said.  “Thank you for taking such good care of my dad.”

   It was too much for Burke.  Overwhelmed, he buried his face in the sagging neck of his best friend’s only son and let emotions he’d held in check for months spill over.  Breaking down completely, he sobbed heartbrokenly for several minutes.

  “I’m … sorry, Chris,” he sniffed, lifting his head from the overseer’s broad shoulder.

   “It’s Virgil, Pete,” the old man said, returning to that personification.  “Christopher Virdon died over a thousand years ago.  Okay?”

 Burke wiped his stinging eyes with the heels of his hands and nodded.  “Okay,” he said soggily.

   “Promise me he’ll never find out.  Promise!”

   “I promise … Virgil.  I won’t ever tell him.”

  “And you’ll destroy the book.”

 “I’ll destroy it.”

 Satisfied, Virgil nodded.  “It’s almost time for dinner.  Wash your face and go get cleaned up.  Charlie’ll have a fit if you show up at her table looking like that.”

 The dark-haired astronaut smiled.  “That’s right.  I forgot.  You dress for dinner here.”

  The campfire hissed and crackled, protesting its meager fuel of damp logs, leaves and sodden twigs.  Galen had nursed it to partial fruition, but it had still taken nearly forty-five minutes to catch, and the warmth and light it exuded were minimal.

   “Why don’t you give up, Galen.  I don’t think it’s ever going to warm this cave,” Virdon said, shivering and pulling his cape closer around him.

   “It’s not so much for the warmth, Alan, but for the light.”  He indicated Burke across the shadowy cave.  Their friend was rereading the letter Virgil had pressed into his hand ten days ago.  The old man had made him promise not to open the letter until the morning of the tenth day. Pete had been standoffish and uncharacteristically quiet the first nine days of their journey, but today, the day he’d opened the letter, had been the worst of all.  He not only refused to initiate conversation but responded only in monosyllables to any questions about the contents.

 Virdon turned his head toward the solitary figure huddled in the corner.  He sympathized with his friend’s feelings, but every overt gesture to comfort him had been met with stony silence or even more withdrawal.  Sooner or later, someone had to take the initiative to draw the man out of his depression, and Virdon decided that sooner was much better than later.  He stood and prepared to cross the cave when he saw Burke’s shoulders slump and the curly head bow down.

 Concerned, Alan hesitated. He waited and watched as Burke finally drew out of his hunched position, walked purposefully toward the dismal fire and dropped the wadded letter into it.  The dry paper caught immediately, blazed magnificently once, then fell apart to mingle with the glowing embers.

  “Pete?”

 The naked grief reflected in the young human’s brown eyes was almost too painful to view and, feeling suddenly like an intruder, Virdon dropped his gaze.  “Is there anything we can do?” he whispered.

  Burke mutely shook his head.

  “Do you want us to take you back, Pete?” Galen asked quietly from across the cave.

  “No, I made my decision, and it’s the right one for everyone concerned.  I just need some time.  I’m sorry I haven’t been very good company for the past few days, but my mind has been somewhere else.”

  Virdon quickly crossed the distance separating them and placed a comforting hand on Burke’s shoulder.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Maybe … someday.  Not now.”

  “All right, but when you’re ready, we’ll be here.  Remember, Pete, I cope with the same kind of loss every day.  I know it’s hard to believe right now, but eventually, there’ll come a day when your every waking moment isn’t filled with her face and her voice.”

  Burke’s expression became blank.

 Unmindful, Virdon continued, “Just be thankful that you didn’t leave a child behind.  That’s the worst part of it, Pete.  Knowing that your own flesh and blood is growing up without you.”  Alan stopped abruptly.  The course of the conversation was growing maudlin.  “Why don’t you try to get some sleep now.  You’re not completely recovered yet, and I think we can hold up here for a few days to wait out this snowstorm.  Thanks to Charlie, we’ve still got plenty of rations and what used to pass for Portland can wait a few weeks longer.”

  “Okay … I’ll get some rest,” Burke said, but his voice still sounded lackluster.

 The chimpanzee, who’d been silently viewing the exchange between the two astronauts, grinned encouragingly up at both men.  He was already entrenched in his warm bedroll.  “Then good night to both of you,” he said and curled into the covers.

 Still standing forlornly by the fire, Burke watched as Alan located his own bedroll and slid into its warmth.

  The blond astronaut turned back one last time.  “I promise you, Pete, it gets better.”  Slithering farther into the covers, Virdon paused as an idea suddenly came into his mind.  “Listen, when we’re finished with Portland and move up to Seattle, it should be … at least early summer.  How would you feel if we planned a little vacation at the sector afterwards?  You could see Trina again.”

 Burke felt anticipation growing inside, but he forced himself to squelch it.  “I don’t know, Alan.  Maybe … I just don’t know.”

   “All right, but keep it in mind, okay?  Late summer at Virgil’s would mean cold beer and lemonade and Charlie’s pear pies, not to mention good company and good conversation.”

   “I’ll think about it,” Burke said and forced a weak smile.

 Alan appeared relieved.  “I’m glad.  Get some rest.  Tomorrow’ll be a better day.”

 Burke sighed and turned back to his chilly, lonely corner.  He tugged on the angora-lined mittens Trina had knit for him, yanked the matching hat over his thatch of unruly hair, and wrapped his bedroll around him.

 ‘Just be thankful that you didn’t leave a child behind.  That’s the worst part of it, Pete.  Knowing that your own flesh and blood is growing up without you.’  His friend’s words echoed again in his mind, mingling with the unexpected shock he’d received in the overseer’s short note.

 Virdon had said ‘late summer.’  He figured quickly in his head.  Yes, that would be about the time Trina would deliver Alan’s great-great grandchild.

  Burke sighed.  Alan’s ancient son and his own first born would live out their lives fatherless on this godforsaken planet of the apes.  He reached deeply inside himself, praying for some kind of release from the mounting despair but, he was drained dry, hollow, an empty shell, and even an ocean of tears could not liberate him from himself.

  Late summer at Virgil’s greathouse could never come for either of them.  After Seattle, he knew he would have to make up some kind of excuse not to return to the sector this year.  And he would continue making excuses the following year, and the next, and even the next.  going back would mean having to see their child, Trina’s and his, and he knew he wouldn’t have the strength to make himself leave a second time.  And, their return would also bring Alan dangerously close to a truth he knew his friend couldn’t bear to live with.

  It might take a decade – or two – for Virdon to understand that he would never return to the sector and, by that time, his own child would be grown, and Virdon’s son would be ….

   He stopped his train of thought as across the cave the overture to Virdon’s nightly symphony of snores began.  On his right, Galen growled softly in his sleep, and Burke managed a wan smile in the dark.  His friends were concerned about him, and he vowed to make an effort to return to his old self.

 The fire spat and hissed one final time as it reluctantly surrendered to death, and the cave suddenly went pitch black.

 Sighing to himself, Peter Burke settled back into the warmth of his homemade bedroll, closed his eyes, and fell asleep.

*****END*****

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