"That monkey gives me the creeps."
Chuck stood by the night desk, eating cheese puffs from the vending machine down the hall.
Dave was too engrossed in his game to look up from his PSP, a small handheld video game. "Aw man, leave Chaucer alone," he said, furiously mashing buttons, "he's just smart, that's all."
Chuck continued watching Chaucer, the pride and joy of the Eastlake Primate Research Facility. The middle-aged chimpanzee was reclining in a corner of his cage, nursing his Strawberry-Banana juice bottle, a treat he received once a week as a reward for a job well done. What unnerved Chuck about the Chimp wasn't his smarts, though.
Chuck and Dave worked the midnight-to-eight shift at the EPRF and from the first moment he walked in tonight, that damn ape hadn't taken its eyes off him. Even now, the thing was staring at him. Watching him.
"I can't take it any more; I'm going out for a smoke. You coming?"
Dave didn't reply for a moment, he just kept working his PSP, his arms raising and lowering in frantic movements to influence whatever was on the screen. Suddenly, he cursed and stood up, turning off the game.
"Yeah, let's smoke."
* * *
Chaucer was born in captivity. A part of the EPRF's selective breeding program, he was the only offspring of Gertie and Gonzo - the facility's stars in the late nineties. Aside from good breeding, he was also the beneficiary
of some of the program's best chemistry, receiving daily doses of what EPRF hoped to patent as "smart drugs" - substances that were designed to strengthen and quicken the mind.
Chaucer had learned to sign quicker than a bright human child; and by the time he was six, he was starting to read English (demonstrating unbelievable comprehension).
As soon as Chuck and Dave were out the door, Chaucer replaced the cap on his juice bottle and set it aside. He launched at the cage door, sliding his arm through the wire and reaching for the latch. The day shift workers all
thought very highly of Chaucer; and often left his cage unlocked because he was so well behaved.
That was all about to change.
He caught the latch and opened it, swinging down to the floor with ease. He bounded over to the desk and opened the top right drawer. There were two sets of keys. One was Chuck's; the other set opened any and every door in the
Facility. Chaucer had played with that set quite a few times in the past; but tonight he wanted Chuck's keys.
Standing in the chair, looking down at the open drawer, he fretted for just a moment, unsure which one was the right set. He spied a small golden monkey chained to one of the key rings. Those keys were for the facility - Chaucer remembered sitting under the stairwell in the West Hall for hours, just admiring the little golden chimp. He snatched the other set and looped them around one of his toes.
He picked up the PSP and stared at it a bit, turning it over in his hands. He couldn't decide what about this little black box kept Dave's attention and got him so riled up. He licked it and decided that was no good.
He laid it down in front of him and stared at it, his face inches away from the reflective screen. He knew he had to make it stop working; but he didn't want to break it. Chaucer genuinely liked Dave. He didn't want to ruin his friend's favorite little useless box.
He turned it over and around, studying the shape and the contours. The headache was coming back, but he just pushed it aside. What should he do? He tried prying open the panels on the back, finally getting the little one on
the side to open up. A small, blue card popped out; and he decided this would do it. He took the card and closed the panel before placing the PSP back where Dave left it.
Not much time left. He leapt over the desk and hurried into the ladies' toilet room. He put the keys and card into the sanitary napkin dispenser; pushing them far back so they wouldn't be seen at a glance; then went into one
of the stalls and sat on the toilet.
He peed, farted, and tried like hell to make. Outside, in the office, the door opened. Here they come.
"Oh crap," he heard Dave say through the door, "where the hell is Chaucer?"
Chuck said something the chimp couldn't understand, and then both humans started calling his name.
Finally, he squeezed some out; he hooted loudly, calling out to them. They came running into the bathroom and pushed open the stall door. Chaucer smiled up at them with a big, toothy grin.
Dave visibly relaxed, "Chaucer, you little turd. You're in the wrong bathroom." He chuckled and unrolled a bit of toilet paper, handing it to the monkey.
"I don't think this is very funny, Dave." This comment only gave Dave another chuckle.
Chaucer had won. He smiled again and held out his paw for more of Dave's soft, butt paper. When he was finished, Dave led him back to his cage. Chaucer turned and sat and stared hard at the human.
Tiny eruptions of pain flared through the chimp's brain. The headache took a stranglehold on the base of his skull, and the blood vessels in his right eye began to swell and redden. In his mind, one thought repeated over and over and over, so loud he might scream it if he kept it up: No lock, no lock, no lock, no lock, no lock.
He could feel the limits of his mind - the fog of distance between him and Dave. The thoughts fading away and dying as they left his own mind and dissipated into the air. Gripping the sides of the cage and baring his teeth
against the pain, he forced himself through, straining and reaching until he touched the alien mind of the human. No lock, no lock, no lock, no lock.
Dave went through the motions of locking Chaucer's cage; but he missed the latch by about three inches. Exhausted, the chimp leaned back against his bedding and opened his juice. He drank three or four deep gulps, and laid the bottle on its side by the cage door. He lay his head down and slept for an hour or so.
He slept through Dave's tirade about the missing memory card; and his subsequent decision to go to the lounge and watch TV.
"That monkey's got hell to pay, when he wakes up," he said impotently as he left the office.
Chuck sat and stared at the disturbing ape for a while, then made a decision; he got up and went to the lounge himself.
* * *
Dave was watching some sci-fi show about little brown aliens. Chuck stood in the doorway for a minute thinking of the best way to couch his question. Finally, he exhaled and took a step into the lounge.
"Dave, I want to head out for a bit - you know, get away, clear my head-"
"Have sex with your girlfriend," Dave said. "Yeah man, knock yourself out; just be sure you're back before Jonas comes in. I'm not getting fired over your midnight bootie calls."
Chuck shrugged, "All right, man. I'll be back by five."
"Four-thirty."
"Five. Jonas doesn't come in until six; and it won't take us longer than an hour to clean up."
"Fine. See you later. I'm taking a nap, so wake me when you get back."
Chuck agreed; and went back to the office. He hung his lab coat up and opened the drawer for his keys.
"Son of a-" he said, looking up at the sleeping chimp. Oh, that monkey was really starting to get on his nerves. He went back to the lounge; but Dave was already out cold. Chuck sighed and returned to the office.
One or two of the other chimps were looking at him; but not the way Chaucer did. That one always seemed to know something.
He could never tell what it was thinking; but Chuck was sure it had something to do with escaping to the jungle. He was also certain that there was no ape-rule about not killing humans if they cage you up and feed you experimental drugs since before you were born.
"You stupid monkey," he said, slouching into the chair, and picked up the phone. He hung it back up and went into the Ladies' Room. He looked just about everywhere for the hidden keys (and probably the memory card); but
didn't see them.
He searched the office, the hall, the Men's Room. He even went down to Chaucer's favorite hiding spot, under the stairs in the West Hall. There was a half-full bottle of Strawberry-Banana Snapple stuffed under the bottom step;
but tonight's bottle was still in the monkey's cage. He thought about throwing the stuff away, just to spite Chaucer; but only shrugged. I'm not a monkey, he thought and went to the lounge to watch Dave's stupid sci-fi show.
Chaucer was already dreaming. He was standing in the Ladies' Room and Chuck was looking at him with his hands on his hips. That usually meant that Chuck was not happy.
"I'm not a monkey," he told Chaucer, then stormed out into a field of daisies. Chaucer followed him out and sat next to him. The human knelt down and started combing Chaucer's hair for fleas and ticks, picking them out and
crushing them between his teeth.
"I'm not a monkey," he said again, "there's juice under the bottom step of the stairs in the West Hall."
"I know," Chaucer said, though he'd forgotten about hiding it away there last week. He brushed the human's hands away and stood upright. In Chaucer's dreams, he stood upright and spoke English. He stared at the sun; but the sun
turned black. The nightmare was starting again.
Like a flash, he whirled on Chuck, baring his teeth, "Run you fool! Warn Dave! They're coming!"
He snapped awake and grabbed the empty bottle, raising it like a weapon. Glancing about, he saw that the lights were still on. He relaxed a bit and sat down, still holding the empty bottle. He'd been sure Chuck would try to
wake him up to find his keys.
Maybe he was wrong about Dave too. Maybe things were going to be fine after all. He didn't feel very good about that though. He scratched his chin and sat back, staring at the light. At least his headache was gone.
* * *
Whatever Dave was watching was absolutely the stupidest thing Chuck had ever been subjected to. He thought about warning Dave that his brain was going to explode out the back of his head if he didn't stop watching stupid crap on television.
He flipped through the channels for a couple of revolutions; but there wasn't anything on except reruns of Sports Center. The only thing Chuck thought was dumber than reruns of Sports Center was that garbage Dave had been watching. He got up and went back into the office. Chaucer was awake.
"Hey monkey," Chuck said from across the room, "what'd you do with my keys?"
Chaucer only looked at him, his eyes crinkled up in what could either be confusion or bemusement. Or maybe he's just a monkey, Chuck thought, and you're giving him emotions that aren't there. In his mind's ear, he heard a guttural version of his own voice say, not a monkey.
"Creepy monkey." He sat down to do a crossword.
He was about halfway through it; and making good headway when the lights went out.
"What now?" It took a minute for the generators to kick in; and Chuck sat still in the dark waiting for the red emergency lights. The monkeys who were awake were getting a little anxious.
When the emergency lighting came on, Chuck started to tell the apes to settle down, but stopped short when he saw Chaucer's empty cage. He looked around for the missing chimp; but the light was too dim. He went to the emergency locker and got out the tranquilizer gun.
From his perch, high up on Gazelle's cage in the corner, Chaucer watched with grim satisfaction. This was good. He had one of his paws stuck through the wire of the cage roof; and Gazelle had her face pressed against it, holding his thumb and little finger with either hand. When Chuck took the tranquilizer into the hall, Chaucer indicated to Gazelle that he needed to go.
She resisted and he focused his gaze on her and pressed into her mind. Ape minds were easier get through. They felt simpler; and less alien than a human mind. Chaucer did not understand how he felt about this. He liked that
he could touch the other apes this way - there minds were comfortable, and they reminded him of some far away home place. A the same time, the simplicity saddened him.
Sometimes, he wondered what would happen if he stopped taking his medication and started feeding them to the others. Would he become as simple as they? Would he forget all he had learned? These fears stopped him from
trying it out on Gazelle - his favorite. She was nice and soft, but still strong. She did not understand things though; and he pitied her.
Now he coaxed her to sleep, gently stroking her mind with his own. She
made an expression that pulled on another part of him - not his mind or his
groin; but something deeper that he did not understand. She let go of his
hand and lay down.
With his empty bottle in hand, Chaucer crept across the cage tops and leapt down onto the desk. Chuck had left the blue locker open; and, sparing a quick glance at the hall door, Chaucer rushed over too it and found the stun baton. He had seen Jonas use the stun baton on Maximillian, when the old ape had gotten upset at something and went berserk. Maximillian was gone now. Chaucer was not sure, but he thought that maybe the older chimp was dead.
He considered that maybe the stun baton wouldn't work on humans; but then he thought that was probably dumb. He smiled, hearing Chuck's voice in his head, "stupid monkey."
He put the bottle under the desk and took the stun baton into Ladies' Room. He tested it by holding it away from him and pulling the trigger. He was terrified by the crackling snap that it made, remembering vividly what it had done to Maximillian; but he held onto it and braced himself for what was next. He climbed up onto the commode he'd used before.
They hadn't noticed it wasn't flushed. He sat down again and tried to make, realizing he should have eaten more dinner. He squeezed out a little bit, then managed to get the butt paper himself and wiped. He reached into the water and pulled out a handful of the mess he'd made.
Looking at it made him snarl. Somewhere along the line, he'd developed a human's disgust of such things. He held it close to his nose and sniffed it anyway. The smell made him wince and shake his head away; but he held onto
it. Then the commotion began.
The outside door slammed open; and Chaucer could hear a pack of humans making all sorts of noises as they rushed in. He was standing up on the toilet seat, a stun baton in one hand, feces and toilet paper in the other. He was breathing hard and fast, bobbing up and down. In his chest, his heart was pounding.
"Free the animals!" he heard one of the strange humans shout; and the other apes were now agitated and crying out, rattling their cages and jumping around. Chaucer could hear the humans opening those cages and letting fellow
apes out.
"Where are the workers," another human asked, "fan out." The bathroom door opened and Chaucer heard footsteps. This was it. His fast, heavy breathing stopped as he reared back with his muck covered hand.
"What is that smell," one of the humans said as he opened the stall door. Chaucer hurled the mess in his hand right at the human's face, then leapt forward onto the startled man, who fell back with a thud. He stuck him in the chest with the stun baton.
The pain that shot into his legs was even worse than the headaches he got when he tried to pressure human minds. He cried out and leapt off the dazed, slime covered human. He bolted into a different stall and bounced on his legs for a moment to try them out. He was still okay. Don't touch the humans when you stick them.
"What the hell's going on - Larry!" Another human had come into the bathroom and was rushing over to the unconscious Larry. When he got close enough, the smell and the mess on Larry's face made him recoil. Some of it was lying in the man's mouth; and a string of used toilet paper covered his nose.
Chaucer heard this new human begin to vomit and knew this was his chance. He leapt over the top of the stall and landed hard on the human's shoulders, carrying him to the ground, spraying his sickness everywhere as he went down. He leapt off the man and started to stick him with the gun when he noticed the new human was unconscious too. He knelt down into the man's face and saw where he'd hit his head against the floor. He knelt down close to the vomit covered face, nose wrinkled in disgust.
The man was still breathing; but Chaucer didn't think he was going to be any trouble. He stuck the other man with the stunner again though, and started out into the office.
He pulled the heavy door open just in time to see a human female who was coming in. Looking back over her shoulder, she didn't see him. Chaucer jammed the stun baton into her stomach and pulled the trigger. She lurched
back and doubled over; but didn't pass out. Confused, Chaucer hit her with it again. This time, nothing happened. He bared his fangs at her and howled with rage.
The pain behind his eyes was immense - it drove into his skull like a hammer and pierced every nerve in his body. The woman screamed weakly, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She went down. Chaucer dropped the stun baton and leapt over her onto the desk. There were still three humans in the office; two females and a man in a red coat. He was the one that was going to kill Dave.
Chaucer bellowed again, and stood up to his full height, banging his chest, banging the desk. He leapt at the human in red and brought both fists down hard on his shoulders. Part of the man broke and he cried out. He was reaching for something in his jacket, and it clattered across the floor.
Both of the other humans were screaming, "oh my god, oh my god!" And when the hall door opened, neither of them saw Chuck and Dave until it was too late. Chuck shot one of the girls with the tranquilizer gun; and Dave
wrestled the other one to the ground.
Chaucer walked over to the thing on the floor. It was black and shiny - like Dave's little box; but clunky and heavy. Not smooth. This was the thing he was afraid of in his nightmare. This was how the human in the red coat
killed Dave. He sniffed it, tasted it, and carried it over to the unconscious human.
It had a trigger like the stun baton, and Chaucer thought he could use it. Dave would be safe forever if this other human was dead. He held it over his head and howled at the human; but as he did so, the thing jerked in his
hand. A loud, obnoxious report sounded through the room; and Chaucer heard Chuck scream, "Jesus!"
The pain in Chaucer's hand made him throw the weapon across the room. Crying out, he retreated into his still open cage. He sucked at his hand and then just sat there, looking at the aftermath of so much commotion.
Chuck walked over and picked up the pistol. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling and shook his head.
"What just happened?" Dave asked. He was still pinning the last girl against the floor. She spit in his face.
"We're liberating these poor creatures from your cruelty and oppression!"
Chuck walked over to them and pointed the weapon at her, staring through the revolver's sights.
"Looks to me like you're lying on the floor with your ass kicked." He chuckled, then stifled his laughter, then just let it go. He was howling. "You got your asses kicked by a monkey you were trying to set free!"
He picked up the phone and called 9-1-1. When he was sure the cops were coming, he and Dave locked the two girls in the Ladies' Room with their unconscious companions. They didn't want to move the guy in the red coat; but he was lying against the door; so they carefully inched him over into the middle of the floor.
He put the pistol on the desk; and they quickly rounded up the other apes. When they were done, Chuck stood in front of Chaucer's open cage. The ape still sitting there, staring at him.
"Well, creepoid," Chuck laughed, "you did a good job here." Chaucer climbed out of the cage and into Chuck's unsuspecting arms. He patted the human on the back as he hugged him. Chuck was smiling.
Dave walked over and pet the ape's head. "I can't believe you did all this, Chaucer." He shook his head and looked around the room, "uh, thanks."
Chaucer looked at Dave; but his grin turned to bare fangs and a roar of anger.
Behind Dave, the injured man had the revolver. He said, "sons of bitches," and fired.
Chaucer was already scrambling out of Chuck's arms, his powerful legs knocking the man against the cages. He threw Dave to the ground just in time to intercept the redcoat's bullet.
It caught him in chest, just below the collar bone, and whirled him in the air like a puppet. He let out a pained yelp and hit the floor with a thud.
"Motherfucker," Dave screamed, lunging for the pistol. Holding the gun with one hand, he punched the man with the other, and then brought his fist down against his neck. The activist's collarbone was already broken when Chaucer hit him; and Dave was sickened when his fist went in a little too far. The man screamed and let go of the gun. Dave stood up and kicked him in the groin. He spit on the man and turned around.
Chaucer was lying on his back, weakly pawing at Chuck, who was already by his side.
The ape whimpered a little. Chuck put his hand on the side of Chaucer's face and looked him in the eye, "You're going to be okay."
The monkey's right eye seemed to get redder, blood vessels filled and strained to burst. Chaucer cringed at something and Chuck let go of him and sat back hard.
"Oh my god," he said. His hands were up at his temple, rubbing back and forth as he stared at the once again very creepy monkey.
Dave was kneeling down with the first aid kit, "what?"
"He," Chuck was stammering, "He just... No. He couldn't..."
Dave put pressure on the bullet wound and Chaucer cried out, teeth bared, his immense grip wrapped around Dave's arm. The human winced at the pain and leaned in.
"It's okay, buddy. You're going to be all right, but we have to stop the bleeding." Chaucer held onto Dave's wrist. His teeth gritted in agony.
The slightest trickle of blood escaped his left nostril, and Dave's world changed forever. In his mind's eye, he could see Chaucer sitting up, blood pouring out of his wound in impossible gallons, the ape looked up at him, "Stop the bleeding?"
Dave went pale and stared at the ape, whose grip slackened on his arm. He was shaking when he too, called on God. He was crying.
"Th-that's right, Chaucer," he said, "just hang on." He looked up at Chuck, who was just as dumbfounded.
"What did he say?"
Dave motioned Chuck over to help, "he said he understands. Oh my god, Chuck, what do we do?"
* * *
They started bandaging Chaucer's wound. While they worked, Chuck realized that Chaucer had hidden his keys in the tampon dispenser in the Ladies' Room, with Dave's memory card. At some point, either Dave or Chuck (neither could recall which) asked the ape how he did all this. In response, Chaucer showed them his nightmare.
It was a field of daisies. Dave was sitting at the desk playing with his PSP; and Chuck was driving away in his car. Suddenly, the sun was blocked out and the man in the red coat came up with a gun and shot Dave. The first
bullet shattered through the PSP and pierced his heart. The second exploded out the back of his skull. He lay on the floor bleeding and dead and the vision stopped.
* * *
When the police arrived, the two workers did their best to explain the situation. They avoided telling anyone just how Chaucer had helped; only saying that he'd injured a couple of the activists when they got violent.
Chaucer was taken to the animal hospital and patched up nicely. He was tested to see how his behavior had changed after attacking humans so viciously; but found to be in perfect mental health (and smarter than ever).
Noting how difficult it was for the little chimp to use his telepathic ability, Chuck and Dave decided not to tell anyone. If the scientists haven't figured it out yet, then maybe Chaucer didn't want them too.
They spent most of their nights after that hanging out with him; watching Dave's crappy sci-fi or teaching him how to play with the PSP. They even took him on field trips every once in a while - to late night restaurants (which wouldn't let them in) and all night arcades. Chaucer's favorite trips were to the city part.
Roughly a week after the hero ape returned to EPRF, his mental abilities stopped advancing. He was already the smartest primate any of the staff had ever encountered, so this was not considered a failure, or even a set-back. They continued giving him his dose; it just stopped increasing his faculties.
The scientists and workers on the day shift, however, were becoming more and more disturbed by the calm nature that seemed to be spreading among all the primates. More than one would regularly complain about the way they all
just seemed to sit there and stare.
Chuck stood by the night desk, eating cheese puffs from the vending machine down the hall.
Dave was too engrossed in his game to look up from his PSP, a small handheld video game. "Aw man, leave Chaucer alone," he said, furiously mashing buttons, "he's just smart, that's all."
Chuck continued watching Chaucer, the pride and joy of the Eastlake Primate Research Facility. The middle-aged chimpanzee was reclining in a corner of his cage, nursing his Strawberry-Banana juice bottle, a treat he received once a week as a reward for a job well done. What unnerved Chuck about the Chimp wasn't his smarts, though.
Chuck and Dave worked the midnight-to-eight shift at the EPRF and from the first moment he walked in tonight, that damn ape hadn't taken its eyes off him. Even now, the thing was staring at him. Watching him.
"I can't take it any more; I'm going out for a smoke. You coming?"
Dave didn't reply for a moment, he just kept working his PSP, his arms raising and lowering in frantic movements to influence whatever was on the screen. Suddenly, he cursed and stood up, turning off the game.
"Yeah, let's smoke."
Chaucer was born in captivity. A part of the EPRF's selective breeding program, he was the only offspring of Gertie and Gonzo - the facility's stars in the late nineties. Aside from good breeding, he was also the beneficiary
of some of the program's best chemistry, receiving daily doses of what EPRF hoped to patent as "smart drugs" - substances that were designed to strengthen and quicken the mind.
Chaucer had learned to sign quicker than a bright human child; and by the time he was six, he was starting to read English (demonstrating unbelievable comprehension).
As soon as Chuck and Dave were out the door, Chaucer replaced the cap on his juice bottle and set it aside. He launched at the cage door, sliding his arm through the wire and reaching for the latch. The day shift workers all
thought very highly of Chaucer; and often left his cage unlocked because he was so well behaved.
That was all about to change.
He caught the latch and opened it, swinging down to the floor with ease. He bounded over to the desk and opened the top right drawer. There were two sets of keys. One was Chuck's; the other set opened any and every door in the
Facility. Chaucer had played with that set quite a few times in the past; but tonight he wanted Chuck's keys.
Standing in the chair, looking down at the open drawer, he fretted for just a moment, unsure which one was the right set. He spied a small golden monkey chained to one of the key rings. Those keys were for the facility - Chaucer remembered sitting under the stairwell in the West Hall for hours, just admiring the little golden chimp. He snatched the other set and looped them around one of his toes.
He picked up the PSP and stared at it a bit, turning it over in his hands. He couldn't decide what about this little black box kept Dave's attention and got him so riled up. He licked it and decided that was no good.
He laid it down in front of him and stared at it, his face inches away from the reflective screen. He knew he had to make it stop working; but he didn't want to break it. Chaucer genuinely liked Dave. He didn't want to ruin his friend's favorite little useless box.
He turned it over and around, studying the shape and the contours. The headache was coming back, but he just pushed it aside. What should he do? He tried prying open the panels on the back, finally getting the little one on
the side to open up. A small, blue card popped out; and he decided this would do it. He took the card and closed the panel before placing the PSP back where Dave left it.
Not much time left. He leapt over the desk and hurried into the ladies' toilet room. He put the keys and card into the sanitary napkin dispenser; pushing them far back so they wouldn't be seen at a glance; then went into one
of the stalls and sat on the toilet.
He peed, farted, and tried like hell to make. Outside, in the office, the door opened. Here they come.
"Oh crap," he heard Dave say through the door, "where the hell is Chaucer?"
Chuck said something the chimp couldn't understand, and then both humans started calling his name.
Finally, he squeezed some out; he hooted loudly, calling out to them. They came running into the bathroom and pushed open the stall door. Chaucer smiled up at them with a big, toothy grin.
Dave visibly relaxed, "Chaucer, you little turd. You're in the wrong bathroom." He chuckled and unrolled a bit of toilet paper, handing it to the monkey.
"I don't think this is very funny, Dave." This comment only gave Dave another chuckle.
Chaucer had won. He smiled again and held out his paw for more of Dave's soft, butt paper. When he was finished, Dave led him back to his cage. Chaucer turned and sat and stared hard at the human.
Tiny eruptions of pain flared through the chimp's brain. The headache took a stranglehold on the base of his skull, and the blood vessels in his right eye began to swell and redden. In his mind, one thought repeated over and over and over, so loud he might scream it if he kept it up: No lock, no lock, no lock, no lock, no lock.
He could feel the limits of his mind - the fog of distance between him and Dave. The thoughts fading away and dying as they left his own mind and dissipated into the air. Gripping the sides of the cage and baring his teeth
against the pain, he forced himself through, straining and reaching until he touched the alien mind of the human. No lock, no lock, no lock, no lock.
Dave went through the motions of locking Chaucer's cage; but he missed the latch by about three inches. Exhausted, the chimp leaned back against his bedding and opened his juice. He drank three or four deep gulps, and laid the bottle on its side by the cage door. He lay his head down and slept for an hour or so.
He slept through Dave's tirade about the missing memory card; and his subsequent decision to go to the lounge and watch TV.
"That monkey's got hell to pay, when he wakes up," he said impotently as he left the office.
Chuck sat and stared at the disturbing ape for a while, then made a decision; he got up and went to the lounge himself.
Dave was watching some sci-fi show about little brown aliens. Chuck stood in the doorway for a minute thinking of the best way to couch his question. Finally, he exhaled and took a step into the lounge.
"Dave, I want to head out for a bit - you know, get away, clear my head-"
"Have sex with your girlfriend," Dave said. "Yeah man, knock yourself out; just be sure you're back before Jonas comes in. I'm not getting fired over your midnight bootie calls."
Chuck shrugged, "All right, man. I'll be back by five."
"Four-thirty."
"Five. Jonas doesn't come in until six; and it won't take us longer than an hour to clean up."
"Fine. See you later. I'm taking a nap, so wake me when you get back."
Chuck agreed; and went back to the office. He hung his lab coat up and opened the drawer for his keys.
"Son of a-" he said, looking up at the sleeping chimp. Oh, that monkey was really starting to get on his nerves. He went back to the lounge; but Dave was already out cold. Chuck sighed and returned to the office.
One or two of the other chimps were looking at him; but not the way Chaucer did. That one always seemed to know something.
He could never tell what it was thinking; but Chuck was sure it had something to do with escaping to the jungle. He was also certain that there was no ape-rule about not killing humans if they cage you up and feed you experimental drugs since before you were born.
"You stupid monkey," he said, slouching into the chair, and picked up the phone. He hung it back up and went into the Ladies' Room. He looked just about everywhere for the hidden keys (and probably the memory card); but
didn't see them.
He searched the office, the hall, the Men's Room. He even went down to Chaucer's favorite hiding spot, under the stairs in the West Hall. There was a half-full bottle of Strawberry-Banana Snapple stuffed under the bottom step;
but tonight's bottle was still in the monkey's cage. He thought about throwing the stuff away, just to spite Chaucer; but only shrugged. I'm not a monkey, he thought and went to the lounge to watch Dave's stupid sci-fi show.
Chaucer was already dreaming. He was standing in the Ladies' Room and Chuck was looking at him with his hands on his hips. That usually meant that Chuck was not happy.
"I'm not a monkey," he told Chaucer, then stormed out into a field of daisies. Chaucer followed him out and sat next to him. The human knelt down and started combing Chaucer's hair for fleas and ticks, picking them out and
crushing them between his teeth.
"I'm not a monkey," he said again, "there's juice under the bottom step of the stairs in the West Hall."
"I know," Chaucer said, though he'd forgotten about hiding it away there last week. He brushed the human's hands away and stood upright. In Chaucer's dreams, he stood upright and spoke English. He stared at the sun; but the sun
turned black. The nightmare was starting again.
Like a flash, he whirled on Chuck, baring his teeth, "Run you fool! Warn Dave! They're coming!"
He snapped awake and grabbed the empty bottle, raising it like a weapon. Glancing about, he saw that the lights were still on. He relaxed a bit and sat down, still holding the empty bottle. He'd been sure Chuck would try to
wake him up to find his keys.
Maybe he was wrong about Dave too. Maybe things were going to be fine after all. He didn't feel very good about that though. He scratched his chin and sat back, staring at the light. At least his headache was gone.
Whatever Dave was watching was absolutely the stupidest thing Chuck had ever been subjected to. He thought about warning Dave that his brain was going to explode out the back of his head if he didn't stop watching stupid crap on television.
He flipped through the channels for a couple of revolutions; but there wasn't anything on except reruns of Sports Center. The only thing Chuck thought was dumber than reruns of Sports Center was that garbage Dave had been watching. He got up and went back into the office. Chaucer was awake.
"Hey monkey," Chuck said from across the room, "what'd you do with my keys?"
Chaucer only looked at him, his eyes crinkled up in what could either be confusion or bemusement. Or maybe he's just a monkey, Chuck thought, and you're giving him emotions that aren't there. In his mind's ear, he heard a guttural version of his own voice say, not a monkey.
"Creepy monkey." He sat down to do a crossword.
He was about halfway through it; and making good headway when the lights went out.
"What now?" It took a minute for the generators to kick in; and Chuck sat still in the dark waiting for the red emergency lights. The monkeys who were awake were getting a little anxious.
When the emergency lighting came on, Chuck started to tell the apes to settle down, but stopped short when he saw Chaucer's empty cage. He looked around for the missing chimp; but the light was too dim. He went to the emergency locker and got out the tranquilizer gun.
From his perch, high up on Gazelle's cage in the corner, Chaucer watched with grim satisfaction. This was good. He had one of his paws stuck through the wire of the cage roof; and Gazelle had her face pressed against it, holding his thumb and little finger with either hand. When Chuck took the tranquilizer into the hall, Chaucer indicated to Gazelle that he needed to go.
She resisted and he focused his gaze on her and pressed into her mind. Ape minds were easier get through. They felt simpler; and less alien than a human mind. Chaucer did not understand how he felt about this. He liked that
he could touch the other apes this way - there minds were comfortable, and they reminded him of some far away home place. A the same time, the simplicity saddened him.
Sometimes, he wondered what would happen if he stopped taking his medication and started feeding them to the others. Would he become as simple as they? Would he forget all he had learned? These fears stopped him from
trying it out on Gazelle - his favorite. She was nice and soft, but still strong. She did not understand things though; and he pitied her.
Now he coaxed her to sleep, gently stroking her mind with his own. She
made an expression that pulled on another part of him - not his mind or his
groin; but something deeper that he did not understand. She let go of his
hand and lay down.
With his empty bottle in hand, Chaucer crept across the cage tops and leapt down onto the desk. Chuck had left the blue locker open; and, sparing a quick glance at the hall door, Chaucer rushed over too it and found the stun baton. He had seen Jonas use the stun baton on Maximillian, when the old ape had gotten upset at something and went berserk. Maximillian was gone now. Chaucer was not sure, but he thought that maybe the older chimp was dead.
He considered that maybe the stun baton wouldn't work on humans; but then he thought that was probably dumb. He smiled, hearing Chuck's voice in his head, "stupid monkey."
He put the bottle under the desk and took the stun baton into Ladies' Room. He tested it by holding it away from him and pulling the trigger. He was terrified by the crackling snap that it made, remembering vividly what it had done to Maximillian; but he held onto it and braced himself for what was next. He climbed up onto the commode he'd used before.
They hadn't noticed it wasn't flushed. He sat down again and tried to make, realizing he should have eaten more dinner. He squeezed out a little bit, then managed to get the butt paper himself and wiped. He reached into the water and pulled out a handful of the mess he'd made.
Looking at it made him snarl. Somewhere along the line, he'd developed a human's disgust of such things. He held it close to his nose and sniffed it anyway. The smell made him wince and shake his head away; but he held onto
it. Then the commotion began.
The outside door slammed open; and Chaucer could hear a pack of humans making all sorts of noises as they rushed in. He was standing up on the toilet seat, a stun baton in one hand, feces and toilet paper in the other. He was breathing hard and fast, bobbing up and down. In his chest, his heart was pounding.
"Free the animals!" he heard one of the strange humans shout; and the other apes were now agitated and crying out, rattling their cages and jumping around. Chaucer could hear the humans opening those cages and letting fellow
apes out.
"Where are the workers," another human asked, "fan out." The bathroom door opened and Chaucer heard footsteps. This was it. His fast, heavy breathing stopped as he reared back with his muck covered hand.
"What is that smell," one of the humans said as he opened the stall door. Chaucer hurled the mess in his hand right at the human's face, then leapt forward onto the startled man, who fell back with a thud. He stuck him in the chest with the stun baton.
The pain that shot into his legs was even worse than the headaches he got when he tried to pressure human minds. He cried out and leapt off the dazed, slime covered human. He bolted into a different stall and bounced on his legs for a moment to try them out. He was still okay. Don't touch the humans when you stick them.
"What the hell's going on - Larry!" Another human had come into the bathroom and was rushing over to the unconscious Larry. When he got close enough, the smell and the mess on Larry's face made him recoil. Some of it was lying in the man's mouth; and a string of used toilet paper covered his nose.
Chaucer heard this new human begin to vomit and knew this was his chance. He leapt over the top of the stall and landed hard on the human's shoulders, carrying him to the ground, spraying his sickness everywhere as he went down. He leapt off the man and started to stick him with the gun when he noticed the new human was unconscious too. He knelt down into the man's face and saw where he'd hit his head against the floor. He knelt down close to the vomit covered face, nose wrinkled in disgust.
The man was still breathing; but Chaucer didn't think he was going to be any trouble. He stuck the other man with the stunner again though, and started out into the office.
He pulled the heavy door open just in time to see a human female who was coming in. Looking back over her shoulder, she didn't see him. Chaucer jammed the stun baton into her stomach and pulled the trigger. She lurched
back and doubled over; but didn't pass out. Confused, Chaucer hit her with it again. This time, nothing happened. He bared his fangs at her and howled with rage.
The pain behind his eyes was immense - it drove into his skull like a hammer and pierced every nerve in his body. The woman screamed weakly, and her eyes rolled back into her head. She went down. Chaucer dropped the stun baton and leapt over her onto the desk. There were still three humans in the office; two females and a man in a red coat. He was the one that was going to kill Dave.
Chaucer bellowed again, and stood up to his full height, banging his chest, banging the desk. He leapt at the human in red and brought both fists down hard on his shoulders. Part of the man broke and he cried out. He was reaching for something in his jacket, and it clattered across the floor.
Both of the other humans were screaming, "oh my god, oh my god!" And when the hall door opened, neither of them saw Chuck and Dave until it was too late. Chuck shot one of the girls with the tranquilizer gun; and Dave
wrestled the other one to the ground.
Chaucer walked over to the thing on the floor. It was black and shiny - like Dave's little box; but clunky and heavy. Not smooth. This was the thing he was afraid of in his nightmare. This was how the human in the red coat
killed Dave. He sniffed it, tasted it, and carried it over to the unconscious human.
It had a trigger like the stun baton, and Chaucer thought he could use it. Dave would be safe forever if this other human was dead. He held it over his head and howled at the human; but as he did so, the thing jerked in his
hand. A loud, obnoxious report sounded through the room; and Chaucer heard Chuck scream, "Jesus!"
The pain in Chaucer's hand made him throw the weapon across the room. Crying out, he retreated into his still open cage. He sucked at his hand and then just sat there, looking at the aftermath of so much commotion.
Chuck walked over and picked up the pistol. He looked up at the hole in the ceiling and shook his head.
"What just happened?" Dave asked. He was still pinning the last girl against the floor. She spit in his face.
"We're liberating these poor creatures from your cruelty and oppression!"
Chuck walked over to them and pointed the weapon at her, staring through the revolver's sights.
"Looks to me like you're lying on the floor with your ass kicked." He chuckled, then stifled his laughter, then just let it go. He was howling. "You got your asses kicked by a monkey you were trying to set free!"
He picked up the phone and called 9-1-1. When he was sure the cops were coming, he and Dave locked the two girls in the Ladies' Room with their unconscious companions. They didn't want to move the guy in the red coat; but he was lying against the door; so they carefully inched him over into the middle of the floor.
He put the pistol on the desk; and they quickly rounded up the other apes. When they were done, Chuck stood in front of Chaucer's open cage. The ape still sitting there, staring at him.
"Well, creepoid," Chuck laughed, "you did a good job here." Chaucer climbed out of the cage and into Chuck's unsuspecting arms. He patted the human on the back as he hugged him. Chuck was smiling.
Dave walked over and pet the ape's head. "I can't believe you did all this, Chaucer." He shook his head and looked around the room, "uh, thanks."
Chaucer looked at Dave; but his grin turned to bare fangs and a roar of anger.
Behind Dave, the injured man had the revolver. He said, "sons of bitches," and fired.
Chaucer was already scrambling out of Chuck's arms, his powerful legs knocking the man against the cages. He threw Dave to the ground just in time to intercept the redcoat's bullet.
It caught him in chest, just below the collar bone, and whirled him in the air like a puppet. He let out a pained yelp and hit the floor with a thud.
"Motherfucker," Dave screamed, lunging for the pistol. Holding the gun with one hand, he punched the man with the other, and then brought his fist down against his neck. The activist's collarbone was already broken when Chaucer hit him; and Dave was sickened when his fist went in a little too far. The man screamed and let go of the gun. Dave stood up and kicked him in the groin. He spit on the man and turned around.
Chaucer was lying on his back, weakly pawing at Chuck, who was already by his side.
The ape whimpered a little. Chuck put his hand on the side of Chaucer's face and looked him in the eye, "You're going to be okay."
The monkey's right eye seemed to get redder, blood vessels filled and strained to burst. Chaucer cringed at something and Chuck let go of him and sat back hard.
"Oh my god," he said. His hands were up at his temple, rubbing back and forth as he stared at the once again very creepy monkey.
Dave was kneeling down with the first aid kit, "what?"
"He," Chuck was stammering, "He just... No. He couldn't..."
Dave put pressure on the bullet wound and Chaucer cried out, teeth bared, his immense grip wrapped around Dave's arm. The human winced at the pain and leaned in.
"It's okay, buddy. You're going to be all right, but we have to stop the bleeding." Chaucer held onto Dave's wrist. His teeth gritted in agony.
The slightest trickle of blood escaped his left nostril, and Dave's world changed forever. In his mind's eye, he could see Chaucer sitting up, blood pouring out of his wound in impossible gallons, the ape looked up at him, "Stop the bleeding?"
Dave went pale and stared at the ape, whose grip slackened on his arm. He was shaking when he too, called on God. He was crying.
"Th-that's right, Chaucer," he said, "just hang on." He looked up at Chuck, who was just as dumbfounded.
"What did he say?"
Dave motioned Chuck over to help, "he said he understands. Oh my god, Chuck, what do we do?"
They started bandaging Chaucer's wound. While they worked, Chuck realized that Chaucer had hidden his keys in the tampon dispenser in the Ladies' Room, with Dave's memory card. At some point, either Dave or Chuck (neither could recall which) asked the ape how he did all this. In response, Chaucer showed them his nightmare.
It was a field of daisies. Dave was sitting at the desk playing with his PSP; and Chuck was driving away in his car. Suddenly, the sun was blocked out and the man in the red coat came up with a gun and shot Dave. The first
bullet shattered through the PSP and pierced his heart. The second exploded out the back of his skull. He lay on the floor bleeding and dead and the vision stopped.
When the police arrived, the two workers did their best to explain the situation. They avoided telling anyone just how Chaucer had helped; only saying that he'd injured a couple of the activists when they got violent.
Chaucer was taken to the animal hospital and patched up nicely. He was tested to see how his behavior had changed after attacking humans so viciously; but found to be in perfect mental health (and smarter than ever).
Noting how difficult it was for the little chimp to use his telepathic ability, Chuck and Dave decided not to tell anyone. If the scientists haven't figured it out yet, then maybe Chaucer didn't want them too.
They spent most of their nights after that hanging out with him; watching Dave's crappy sci-fi or teaching him how to play with the PSP. They even took him on field trips every once in a while - to late night restaurants (which wouldn't let them in) and all night arcades. Chaucer's favorite trips were to the city part.
Roughly a week after the hero ape returned to EPRF, his mental abilities stopped advancing. He was already the smartest primate any of the staff had ever encountered, so this was not considered a failure, or even a set-back. They continued giving him his dose; it just stopped increasing his faculties.
The scientists and workers on the day shift, however, were becoming more and more disturbed by the calm nature that seemed to be spreading among all the primates. More than one would regularly complain about the way they all
just seemed to sit there and stare.
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