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He stood there in the rain, almost nude and shivering on a tree limb, listening to the thrashing of the gorilla beaters beneath him. He's always been smarter than his fellows, always knew where the best food trees were, where the safest place to go to forage was. Today had dawned sunny and bright, but storm clouds had risen quickly, even before the small tribe could begin foraging. Then disaster struck, the great horns of the hunters had sounded, followed by the stark whipping noise of the beaters. He had tried to lead the tribe away, but they had panicked and ran in all directions, easy prey for the armed Gorillas. He had climbed into the tree, scratching his side. As the blood trickled from his side, he held a mass of leaves to it, staunching the flow, watching the tribe slaughtered.

A female he liked went down, her head destroyed by gorilla bullets. Then her spasm-wracked body was trampled into the mud by hooves of horses. He felt odd, an emptiness filling him as she died. The oldster of the tribe, forty years old and ancient was taken by beaters. They then proceeded to beat the old man to a pulp, leaving his barely recognizable body for the crows.

Others were taken in nets, to be used either the scientists or expended by the military in training against an unknown enemy. Unknown because in recent ape memory; no enemy had ever risen to challenge their superiority.

He stood there, shivering as the rain pounded down, waiting for the Gorillas to tire of the sport and ride away. From his vantage point, he saw the scaffold go up, dead humans hung from it by their feet. Swiftly an ape hunter went from corpse to corpse, slicing them open and allowing the intestines to spill out. These were buried in a pit, so as not to attract any predators. Apes did not hunt other animals for sport, only man.

The silent man watched as a gorilla, larger than the rest stopped by the last corpse. A smaller gorilla with white streaks in his hair hovered beside him, carrying the larger one's rifle and gear. The larger gorilla raised a hand, causing the butcher to stop. Holding out his other hand he took a cup from the white-haired gorilla then held it by the last human's neck. Bobbing his head in the ape's odd way of acknowledgement, the butcher made a slice on the dead human's neck, allowing the rich, red blood to flow. The large gorilla held his cup to the wound, nose crinkling at the scent of the coppery liquid. Putting the cup to his lips, he took long deep swallows and handed the empty cup back to his squire.

The butcher Gorilla's eyes narrowed in displeasure at this act. "How can you do such a thing Flavius? It's disgusting."

Flavius turned, allowing the hidden human a good look at him. He'd seen this one before. Flavius was chief hunter for the city. Largest of the gorillas, he led by deed not by word. No ape had killed more humans than this one. On his neckpiece, where other officers had decorations of metal, his was of human finger bones. Artfully arranged, each had been colored. Flavius had one good eye; the other was white, glaring out of scar tissue. This had happened when he was on his first hunt. Still young, he'd cornered a savage human and decided to take him with his hands. His eye had paid the price for this boldness. The human had gashed it with a rock then stuck a thumb into the wound. Flavius had pulled the human's head from his shoulders with his bare hands then drank the blood that flowed from the wound. He'd been doing it ever since.

"My reasons are my own, Callas. Mind your business when speaking with me, as well as your manners!" Callas cringed when Flavius roared. He'd been part of Flavius regiment but after several beatings when he was caught being less than active in maneuvers (he'd been drunk on apple wine), he'd transferred out to a hunting unit. Flavius rarely hunted in-groups anymore, preferring to hunt the smarter humans. There weren't many left, but he knew somehow that there were.

"Quilas!" The smaller gorilla, Flavius squire, could not speak. He'd been injured in the throat in a horse accident, but he didn't need speech to do his job. Flavius liked the older gorilla and took care of him, even beating several other gorillas whom he'd caught calling Quilas "human".

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