x
Steve Burton did not know how much time had passed when he again opened his eyes, but however long it was, it'd been long enough for some sensation to return to his body---enough sensation for the tingling of returning nerve functions to make every movement a painful experience.
They moved around him in calm, practiced rhythm—two slender apes with long, expressive fingers working warmth back into Steve’s limbs. Their robes were unlike anything he’d ever seen -----flowing garments dyed in vibrant hues of violet, turmeric gold, and electric blue, the colors swirling together in tie-dye patterns that seemed to shift with each movement. Small beads and bells were stitched into the seams, chiming gently as they worked, as if even their healing had its own music. Their hair was groomed with deliberate care—parted neatly down the middle, smoothed back with oils or pressed into subtle waves, decorated with tiny braids, bits of colored thread, and feathers woven in like charms. One wore a narrow circlet made of polished stone and bone fragments; the other had painted symbols—moons and spirals—dabbed across her brow in natural pigments.
There was nothing hurried or clinical about their touch. They worked as though the act itself was sacred—fingers tracing energy lines along his arms, tapping gently at pressure points, coaxing circulation and breath back into his body.
Despite the strange colors and sounds, Steve felt a calm settle over him—a warmth that reached deeper than muscle or bone. In minutes the tingling died away and he was able to sit up and look around.
The first thing he saw was Cornelius, sitting on the edge of a narrow bed, sipping something from a steaming mug. Then, with a start, he saw the figure he had earlier thought was a dream brought on by the snow and the cold: the humanlike ape clad in the psychedelic robe. And he saw now that the ape was old---unbelievably old!
The old, humanlike ape approached slowly, his every movement measured and graceful, as though time itself bowed slightly to him. His face was deeply lined but serene, eyes clear and calm beneath a fringe of neatly parted, silver-streaked hair. He stopped before Steve, hands folded in front of him, and inclined his head—not in dominance, but in deep recognition.
Then, in a voice as soft as wind through leaves and yet carrying the weight of generations, he spoke: "You have come far, child of the divided path. The mountains do not yield their secrets easily—yet here you are, carried by sky and storm. Be not afraid. You are seen… and you are not unwelcome."
Steve blinked up at the figure before him, still half unsure whether he was dreaming. The ape's voice had settled something in him—a calm he couldn’t explain—but the questions surged back just the same. His voice was hoarse, brittle with the cold still clinging to his throat. "Where… where are we?" he asked, eyes scanning the strange surroundings: soft lamplight flickering against carved stone, the gentle rustle of robes, the hum of wind far above. "And who are you? Or… what are you?"
He didn’t mean it to sound harsh, but the words hung in the air like flint against silk. He struggled to sit up a little more, pain blooming in his side.
"You're not… gorilla, or chimp. Not like the others I’ve seen. You speak like—like a monk or a man. But you’re not human, either."
His gaze searched the elder’s features, trying to find some anchor of familiarity.
"So ---- what are you?" he asked again, not with fear—but with wonder.
The old ape’s expression didn’t shift at Steve’s question—if anything, it softened, as if he’d been waiting for it.
He sank gracefully to a cushion across from Steve, folding his long limbs with a dancer’s ease. For a moment, he simply looked at him—his gaze not invasive, but searching, as though reading the shape of Steve’s soul through silence.
“I am called Mira'Kai,” he said at last, his voice deep but gentle, like riverwater over stone. “High Guru of Khan'Gorr. Keeper of the Inner Flame. Listener at the Threshold.” He placed one hand lightly over his heart, then extended it in an open gesture—not as a greeting, but as a gift. “You stand in the sanctuary of a people long hidden. Not by choice, but by decree. We are the Pan-Kelari—the branch of Apekind born with too much gentleness, too much questioning. Too much resemblance, some said, to humanoids.” His eyes glinted—not with pride, but with knowing. “The others—the gorillas, the chimpanzees, the orangutans—they called us half-formed. Not true apes. Said our hands were too delicate, our faces too open, our instincts too... unruly. We did not fit their law, so we made no place in their world.”
He looked away briefly, toward the carved walls, where ancient symbols glowed faintly in the firelight—spirals, trees, stars, and open hands. “So we walked inward. Into the high places. Into the mist. Into ourselves. And we built this refuge where all things are sacred: thought, touch, breath, being.”
Then he returned his gaze to Steve, and though it held the weight of centuries, it was not without hope. “You were not brought here by accident. The wind carries only what is ready to be received.”
"And I thought Khan'Gorr was just a legend...." Cornelius apologized, shaking his head in wonderment.
"Khan'Gorr has been real since the beginning of all legends," Mira'Kai said with a smile.
Steve swung his legs over the edge of his bed, shocked to find that he was still dressed in his flight suit and skin jacket. "Thanks for saving our lives!" he said warmly.
Mira'Kai tilted his head slightly, studying Steve with quiet curiosity, the firelight catching in his eyes like slow-moving embers. “Gratitude,” he murmured, as if tasting the word for the first time. “How strange to hear it from one of your kind.” There was no accusation in his tone—only wonder, as though Steve had uttered something rare and almost forgotten. “In all the old encounters, your people came with fire, questions sharpened into weapons, or silence wrapped in fear. But thanks? That is... new.” His voice lingered on the last word as if it were a seed he might plant.
Cornelius, still weak but upright with the aid of a padded bolster, turned toward the High Guru, his brow furrowed beneath the weight of too many questions. “Your Holiness,” he began, his voice respectful but edged with scientific curiosity, “forgive me, but… you don’t seem at all surprised that this humanoid can speak.” His eyes flicked to Steve, then back to Mira'Kai. “Most of our kind—my kind—would consider that a miracle. Or a threat. But you… you greeted him as though you expected it.”
"Naturally," the High Guru said gently. "After all, humanoids were able to speak long before we apes were even able to think."
"That's a surprising confession---for an ape," Steve exclaimed.
"Up here...in the arms of Khan'Gorr," Mira'Kai said softly, "we have a somewhat clearer picture of the world, and the world's history, than have our cousins who live on the plains."
"Then you must know what's happened in the last 5,400 years!" Steve spoke excitedly. "You must know what brought this---this decline of human beings about!"
"Yes...I know," Mira'Kai answered, losing his smile. "I know how your people---you humanoids---almost destroyed the world. I know how your people hunted down and killed every ape you could find, in an effort to prevent any other race from inheriting what you had thrown away: true self-control and mastery of the planet. I know the hate that was in your hearts....."
"Don't harm him!" Cornelius broke in fearfully, getting up from his couch and stepping between Steve and the scowling High Guru. "He is not at fault. He is my friend!"
"I have observed that," said Mira'Kai. "And I have observed that he does not have the hatred in his heart that cursed his race. All creatures with loving hearts are equal in the eyes of Khan'Gorr, and are welcome under the protection of Khan'Gorr."
"Then, may we ask another favor of you, Mira'Kai?"
"If it is within the power of Khan'Gorr to grant, you shall have it," Mira'Kai replied, again smiling.
"Our balloon---our flying machine---is down on one of the snow shelves, damaged. Could you help us get it to the top of the mountain and repair and rips it might have in it, so that we may return to our home?"
Mira'Kai looked at them for a moment, a deep worry in his eyes. "For thousands of years, we of Khan'Gorr have lived upon our mountains, hidden from the world because we desired to be. To let you return, knowing of our existence, could be gravely dangerous to us!"
"We won't say anything about you or your city," Steve pleaded. "You've got my word on that!"
"And mine," Cornelius echoed.
"We must consult with the Great One. He will guide us in this matter."
"Great One...?" Cornelius inquired, wonderingly. "I thought you were the High Guru, Mira'Kai."
"I am. But in this case, I must consult my....superior," the old Pan-Kelari said, calmly. "The great god Khan'Gorr. And now he awaits us. Come!"
Troubled---and suddenly wondering about the sanity of the High Guru----Steve and Cornelius followed him out of the room and down a long corridor carved out of what seemed to be one massive block of stone, perhaps the side of the mountain itself. At length, the three arrived at a huge pair of bronze doors, each fully twenty feet high and ten feet wide. Psychedelic-clad priests who guarded the doors, two to each side, pushed lightly on them and the magnificently balanced slabs of bronze, each maybe weighing several tones, swung open gently.
As the doors open, snow driven by the still-blowing blizzard outside swirled into the hallway, and the numbing cold began again to eat into Steve's bones, reminding him of how close he'd come to death only about an hour earlier.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡJRNRBiONms
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBsQBYGlcUy
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM6sZJ4SBPb
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxovRGcf8fX
Unknown to the aviator, a mile away, and hidden by the storm, was another threat to his life: the gorilla snow troop detachment, struggling upward, skis strapped to their backs now as they climbed the almost sheer rock face leading to the plateau where the great god Khan'Gorr stood.
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtjjDGCdwji
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqbg0AQTEMv
Through a sudden break in the swirling snow clouds, Steve got a brief glimpse of the giant statue at the top of a peak, still high above them.
"That's going to be quite a climb up there in this storm," he said. "Are you sure we can make it?" he asked Mira'Kai. "After all, Cornelius is still pretty weak."
"We will not have to climb," the High Guru informed him. "Come."
Mira'Kai walked out the door into the storm and turned immediately to the right, heading in again towards the mountain's face. Following, Steve and Cornelius saw the temple, a large part of which had been carved out of the rock face of the mountain on this spacious level shelf so many thousands of feet from the canyon floor.
Near the entrance to the temple the trio saw a set of carved stone steps that led upward at a sharp angle. Mira'Kai led the way up the steps, passing by the temple entrance and mumbling something quietly. Steve could not make out the guru's words. At the top of the steps, Steve was shocked to see an enclosed gondola---similar to the balloon's---made of beautifully carved wood and resting on a little platform. Extending up into the mist above it was a slim, woven metal rope.
"A cable car?" Steve exclaimed.
"Yes, a cable car. To the Place of the God," Mira'Kai told him. "Which saves a lot of wear and tear on these old legs of mine!"
"How do you power it?" Steve asked, puzzled.
"Through large gears, below the city," the High Guru explained. "Turned by acolytes. It is part of their training to become gurus---and one of the few ways I have found of keeping them out of trouble, until they have learned the discipline necessary to be as one with nature and their fellow apes!"
"That's fascinating, Your Holiness," Cornelius said. "But if you had gasoline engines...."
"Then we would have foul scents, smoke to reveal our existence to the plain apes, a need to obtain oil, and hordes of lazy teenagers with nothing to do to keep them out of trouble. I say no to that. We will continue to do it our way. But, come, my friends! Khan'Gorr awaits us at the summit!"
Mira'Kai held open the door to the cable car for the humanoid and the chimpanzee, then he rang a small bell, and the cable car began to move upward with a little jerk, sliding off its platform and beginning a steady climb. In minutes, the city below them was lost to sight in the swirling mists and snow flurries and they were enveloped in a white, formless world, with only the softly thrumming cable breaking the natural sounds of wind and snow.
Settling himself into a softly cushioned red seat, the High Guru unfurled a scroll of prayers.
Steve looked at the Pan-Kelari ape for an instant, then out at the swirling world of the storm as Cornelius clung tightly to the back of one of the seats and Mira'Kai began chanting a prayer to Khan'Gorr.
"O Khan'Gorr....Khan'Gorr.....Most Mighty Khan'Gorr! Greet these strangers in peace! Surround them with your strength! Guide them with gentle winds! Guide them back to their home and their loved ones in peace and safety! Khan'Gorr....Khan'Gorr....Most Mighty Khan'Gorr!"
Cornelius was peering upward, his eyes following the cable, and suddenly the mists parted to give them a view of the statue. 'I find this ritual fascinating---and more than a little bit scary!" he whispered to Steve.
"Cornelius," Steve said, also in a whisper, "never knock another man's religion. Especially when that man might be able to get you down off a mountain! Unless you'd rather try to walk down on your own?"
"Through that?" Cornelius chuckled softly and pointed out at the icy, snow-covered rocks.
Then his eyes widened.
On those rocks, right at the feet of the great god Khan'Gorr, he saw the ape soldiers who'd climbed the peak, searching for them.
"Look!" Cornelius warned his companions.
Steve's head snapped around at the terror he heard in Cornelius's voice and Mira'Kai dropped the scroll he'd been reading, looking outside to where Cornelius was pointing.
Steve's head snapped around at the horror he heard in Cornelius's voice and Mira'Kai dropped the scroll he had been reading, looking outside to where Cornelius had been pointing.
High above them, Captain Kronos and four of his men had finished their climb and were standing exactly at the feet of Khan'Gorr, where the cable was anchored into the rock. Weary but determined, they were looking down the cable at the rising car.
"It's the chimp and the humanoid---with someone else," the gorilla sergeant shouted at the captain.
Kronos made a quick decision. He knew that he'd never be able to get these prisoners down alive off the mountain if they didn't want to cooperate, and the giant statue above him was making him nervous.
He turned to one of the soldiers. "Cut that cable!" he ordered.
The soldier quickly unstrapped an axe from his backpack and stepped forward, the heavy blade raised over his head.
"Do something!" Cornelius yelled. "He's going to cut the cable!"
"Let not fear take root in your hearts, my friends!" Mira'Kai told them. "Khan'Gorr will protect us. He will not let the soldiers kill us!"
"How in the hell is a statue supposed to protect us—are you out of your mind?" Steve snapped, disbelief crackling in his voice like a live wire.
"Watch!" Mira'Kai said simply.
The soldier brought down his axe on the woven steel cable and sparks flew. The echoing clank was audible all the way down to the swaying car----as was a sharp twang as one strand split. As the soldier raised the axe for a second blow, suddenly another sound---a quite different sound---filled the air. It was a sound that filled everyone within earshot with terror, except the calmly waiting High Guru.
First came a tremendous cracking sound, like a series of pistol shots echoing across the mountainside; and inches of ice broke, falling in glistening glass-like plates from the gigantic shape of the statue. One of those ice pieces, falling point downward, sliced into a stumbling gorilla soldier and cut him in half from skull to waist.
Then came a thundering sound, for Khan'Gorr moved!
On the broad face, nostrils flared open, and air whistled through them. Dreadful red eyes glared down at the intruders near his broad, heavy feet. The cavernous mouth opened, showing frighteningly sharp yellow teeth, each nearly a foot in length. Then a vibrating, avalanche-starting, blood-curdling scream left the tunnel-like throat---a maniac shriek of hatred and fury at those who dared to disturb his resting place.
Khan'Gorr's massive body bent forward at the waist and down, until the weight of his upper body was resting on his huge knuckles. Then, with one mighty sweep of his arm, he tumbled the soldiers off the edge of the small plateau he called his own, over the several-thousand-foot fall to the floor of the canyon far below.
Steve whistled softly, looking up at the mighty creature above them.
"What was that?" Mira'Kai asked.
"Sorry," Steve said, shaking his head to clear the shock from it. "I couldn't help being amazed---totally and wonderfully amazed...!"
"What brought it---him---to life like that?" Cornelius asked, a quiver of fear still in his voice.
"He has always been alive!" the High Guru said serenely. "And he has blessed and protected us---and you from the beginning."
"The beginning...?" Steve was puzzled.
"Yes," Mira'Kai said. "From the first moment when he plucked your balloon from the clutches of the storm to learn if you were friend or foe to us...."
Steve, looking quite ashamed of his doubts, gazed up the cable at the mighty ape god. "Thank you, O Great God Khan'Gorr," he said with deep and honest feeling.26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGropgIi4Tt
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡerPSeDvqCv
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSEcdn3z1Ry
26Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5JrOwlNR2I
Two days later, the storm blew itself out against the solid bulwark of the mountains. The balloon and its gondola were brought up the mountain and repaired.
"I have been praying to the great god Khan'Gorr that you may have a safe flight home," Mira'Kai said, his snow-white fur gleaming in the warm sunlight that was quickly melting the ice and snow from the broad ledge on which the city stood.
Above them, the mighty figure of Khan'Gorr, again encased in a light covering of ice, stared with unblinking eyes out over the towering peaks and canyons that were his home.
"We'll never forget your help," Cornelius said sincerely.
"I am but a servant of Khan'Gorr," the High Guru responded.
"Someday," Steve said, "we'd very much like to return. I'd like to speak with you, Mira'Kai, about history. The history of both our races."
"We would welcome that."
"Until that day, however, could you do us one little favor?"
"Of course. You have the blessing of Khan'Gorr."
"I've got this book," Steve said, holding out the package he and Cornelius had brought with them. "It was written by my people---the ancient humanoids----more than 5,400 years ago. Would you keep it here and guard it from harm? Someday, maybe, both our races can benefit from the book!"
The High Guru accepted the book. "I will place it in a small cave that is just behind Khan'Gorr. I am sure it will be safe there," he said with a smile. "He will allow no one but you to touch it. I give you my word as High Guru of Khan'Gorr!"
"Thanks, Mira'Kai. You've been a more than good friend to us."
"Bless you, bless you, my brothers, in the name of Khan'Gorr. And have a safe journey homeward to your loved ones."
Mira'Kai stepped away from the edge of the plateau where they'd been standing, and with a wave of his hand signaled to his fellow gurus to release the ropes that held the refurbished balloon to the ground.
"Have a safe voyage!" he repeated once more, waving goodbye until the balloon was out of sight.
