Monkey Wars (17 page)

N
o one knew why, but the trees in Temple Gardens had enjoyed a spectacular growth spurt that year, enabling the bravest monkeys to clamber to the ends of the topmost branches and swing down onto the head of the giant Hanuman statue. Not many were brave enough, though, which is why this had become the perfect rendezvous for Mico and Papina.

Perched on the statue's shoulder, tucked discreetly in the shadows of his flowing stone hair, Mico had commanding views of the surrounding streets, enabling him to make covert visits to Papina while keeping a lookout for langur patrols.

The system worked well—their clandestine meetings took place every other day, allowing Mico to pass vital information about attacks all across the city. Although he couldn't stop the land grabs, his espionage had prevented any more massacres.

So far.

But there had been some close calls. Only a few days earlier a patrol had targeted some rhesus families living on the roof of a new shopping center, allegedly scavenging from the cafés. By the time Mico had got word to Papina, the langur elites were already storming across the city and the families only just escaped.

No matter how dangerous it became, though, Mico wasn't going to give up. Beyond the rhesus lives that he was saving was a more powerful reason: every time he delivered secret information, he got to see Papina.

The danger of getting embroiled in the struggle between the warring troops had forged a new intensity in their relationship, and their meetings were so absorbing, there was never any time for the excitement and longing to fade.

From the top of the statue he could see Papina now, scampering through the crowds of monkeys, clutching a sprig of fresh dates for them to share. He recognized so many of the monkeys she passed that, even though Mico's visits were covert, in a strange way he felt part of the rhesus troop, especially as Papina always found time to update him on the latest gossip.

He knew that Rowna was now on her third mate—the previous one had found her overbearing manner too much to handle, and one night he simply ran away. But far from mellowing Rowna, this had made her even more outspoken. She wanted a male to boss around, and she found one in a chubby monkey called Uzi who spent much of the time teasing her, but was careful to do exactly what she said.

Fig didn't have to do any of the pursuing. As she was still young and pretty, there was no shortage of males trying to woo her. In the old days she would have been swayed by a muscular body, but the trauma of exile had taught her that real strength came from knowledge and connections, which is why Fig chose Twitcher as her new mate.

Observing all this pairing-up from a distance was entertaining enough, but it also made Mico feel anxious, because the pressure on Papina to choose a mate had started to grow. Strong as their feelings were for each other, the fact remained: she was rhesus; he was langur—and neither knew how that would end.

There was a sudden rustle of leaves and Papina swung across from the top branch and landed right next to him on Hanuman's shoulder.

“So, who grabbed the leadership?” she asked, offering him a date, then popping one into her own mouth.

“There's going to be a ballot.”

“A what?”

“It's a new thing. Every monkey has a say in choosing the leader. It was Tyrell's idea, but I think it's a good one.”

Papina chewed thoughtfully. “I don't trust him. How can the whole troop speak at once?”

“That bit was my idea,” said Mico proudly. “Each monkey will be given one of my father's pebbles. They have to place it at the feet of the monkey they'd like to be leader. Whoever gets the most pebbles wins.”

Mico spat out his date stone; they watched as it drifted down…and just missed the pool.

“Hah!” Papina smiled triumphantly, then demonstrated how it should be done, sending a stone plopping right into the water.

“Tyrell's a cunning operator,” Mico admitted, “but this ballot, it could be a whole new way of doing things. It makes the leader answerable to the troop.”

“Nothing good ever came from cunning,” replied Papina.

“Give things a chance to settle down,” urged Mico. “Tyrell trusts me—I'm his closest advisor. If we time it right, I know I can swing his thinking, make him stop this war between the troops.”

Papina gave Mico a wan smile. “I want to believe you, Mico, I really do.” She reached out and took his hand, gazing darkly at the tattoo that marked him as one of Tyrell's creatures. “But I have a bad feeling about Tyrell. Very bad.”

“Y
ou and I make a fine team,” Tyrell said with an approving smile, as Mico led him into the room where all the polished pebbles were stored.

For as long as anyone could remember, Trumble's stone accounting system had been a vital part of keeping the langur running smoothly; now it was to determine the very leadership itself…one pebble for each member of the troop.

Tyrell stepped forward and ran his fingers delicately over the stones.

“Beautiful,” he muttered to himself. “And so simple.”

Commandeering a squad of cadets for the afternoon, Mico set about distributing the stones; by the time the sun set, there was a line of eager monkeys—each clasping a pebble—str
etching from the Great Vault back through the cemetery paths.

The air buzzed with chatter and restless energy; the monkeys couldn't contain their excitement at this new way of making decisions and were eager to get started. Finally the two candidates emerged from the heavy doors of the Great Vault to a rousing cheer.

Hani made sure he walked at his full height, confident that when it came to the crunch, the troop would never choose an undersized monkey as leader. Tyrell didn't bother with such theatrics; he believed that physical bulk paled into insignificance next to his sharp intellect.

The two deputies took their places; then Hani drew a deep breath and made his proclamation:

“By the authority vested in me from the hand of Lord Gospodar, I call on each monkey to step forward and place his stone at the feet of the one who shall be his leader.”

Thrill galvanized the troop as Hani beckoned the first monkey in line to come forward. It was Nappo, now a young footsoldier. But he sprang forward with such excitement he tripped and went flying headlong in the dirt, sending his stone skittering across the ground.

The whole line of monkeys burst into laughter as poor Nappo scrambled to his feet and tried to make light of the accident, but when he looked for his voting stone, he saw that it had landed at Hani's feet.

“Good choice,” smiled Hani indulgently. But Nappo shifted uneasily from foot to foot. Then he quickly darted over, retrieved the stone and placed it at Tyrell's feet instead.

“Better choice.” Tyrell smiled.

Trying to hide his embarrassment, Hani gruffly ordered the next monkey to step forward; fortunately for Hani, the next stone did go to him, and by the time the first few dozen votes had been cast the piles were pretty even.

But as twilight crept up on the monkeys, the balance started to shift—slowly Tyrell's pile grew larger as the weight of support eased his way.

It was not completely one sided; Hani came from a big family and they all voted for him, but many others seemed to be in the mood for change.

And then Mico noticed something sinister: Tyrell was scrutinizing each monkey as they stepped forward, as if he was making a mental note of everyone who voted against him and filing the information away for future use.

A shudder ran down Mico's back as he realized the terrible flaw in this ballot: there was no anonymity. Monkeys were forced to declare their loyalties in front of the whole troop. So once it started to become clear that Tyrell was in the lead, those Hani supporters who had not yet cast their vote worked out that they would only harm their prospects by voting with their hearts. Better to hide their true beliefs and place their stones at Tyrell's feet instead.

Inexorably, Tyrell's lead gathered momentum, until every single monkey that stepped forward voted for him.

It was painful to see Hani standing in silent humiliation, desperately hoping for a few stones to go his way. It was no longer about winning; now he just wanted someone to acknowledge his existence.

But no one did.

Collective cowardice had taken control. Just hours before, Hani had been the lord ruler of the troop; now it was as if a curse had descended on him.

By the time the last stone was cast, dusk filled the cemetery. For Hani the gloom brought some relief—at least his shame was partially hidden by the darkness.

Tyrell turned to him and with surprising gentleness said, “The troop has spoken.”

Hani nodded. It had been agreed before the ballot that the winner would take up his duties at dawn the following day, which meant that Hani had the right to sleep in the Great Vault for one last night. In a final act of defiance, he stubbornly insisted on sticking to the terms.

“That's all for tonight, Deputy Tyrell,” said Hani, desperately trying to sound authoritative. “You may go.”

“Until dawn?” Tyrell replied sharply.

“Until dawn.” Then Hani turned and disappeared into the Great Vault, a broken monkey, his brief reign over before it had begun.

Failure has no friends; it is the loneliest solitude of all. Hani sat in his rooms in utter silence, trying to comprehend the speed of his downfall. In just a few short hours his world had crumbled to dust, all his hopes and plans shattered.

The more he brooded, the more Hani felt he had been dealt a mortal blow. All the achievements of his life, his loyal service under Gospodar, the high rank he had enjoyed for so long, all that would be forgotten. From now on, he would only be remembered for the crushing defeat that had snatched the leadership from him. Behind their false smiles, the troop would be laughing at Hani's humiliation; his voice would never be taken seriously again.

In the dark stillness, Hani came to believe that his only hope of peace would be to run away and wander the city alone. Life as a lone monkey, with all its dangers, was surely better than the daily ignominy that would eat away at him in the cemetery.

It was perhaps the most courageous decision Hani had ever taken. And, like so many courageous decisions, it was born out of desperation.

The next morning it was as if Deputy Hani had never existed. Mico, Castro, Rani and General Pogo were summoned to the leader's quarters to receive their briefing, and when they arrived they found Tyrell perched on the raised plinth at the far end of the vault, from where he could look down on all who entered.

“Good morning, monkeys,” Tyrell began. “I suggest we get straight to work.”

And then the bombshell:

“Deputy Hani has gone.” He spoke as casually as if he was talking about a mislaid coconut.

“Gone where?” exclaimed Pogo.

Tyrell just shrugged.

“Is he unwell? Does he need help?” Pogo asked, genuinely concerned for his old friend.

“There are more pressing matters to engage us than the fate of Hani,” Tyrell said tersely.

“But—”

“He was rejected by the troop,” interrupted Tyrell, as if he had merely been an innocent bystander in the whole affair. “The burden of leadership can be heavy; the duty to serve exacts a high price.”

Tyrell hesitated as he looked Pogo up and down, like a fighter sizing up his opponent. “Which is why I feel it would be unfair—cruel even—to impose that burden on another,” he continued. “For this reason, I have decided to shoulder the full responsibility of leadership on my own.”

Tyrell waited to see if anyone was going to howl in protest, but they all just stared at him in stunned silence.

“It was in my name that the troop demanded a ballot,” Tyrell explained. “It is
me
who the monkeys are looking to for leadership. The troop has asked
me
to bear the responsibility for their prosperity and safety. It would be a dereliction of duty if I was to delegate that to others.

“Henceforth, I shall lead
without
deputies or a Ruling Council. And in recognition of this new role I shall be called Lord Tyrell, Supreme Leader of the Langur Troop, Overlord and Protector of the Provinces.”

Tyrell looked at the four monkeys, his eyes searching for any trace of doubt. “I will of course be looking to you, my most trusted advisors, to support me in this great task.”

Still trying to absorb the enormity of what had just happened, Mico and the others could only nod silently.

“Good,” said Tyrell with a smile. “Then your task for today is to make sure the troop understands the huge sacrifice I am making by taking on this duty of office.”

With a curt wave of his hand, Tyrell dismissed the monkeys. “That will be all.”