Battle for the Planet of the Apes - Gerrold David (полная версия книги TXT) 📗

He snapped back to reality and reached for another forkful. The plate was almost empty. He sighed in disappointment and tried to make the last mouthful last. He hadn’t remembered eating all that meat. But he had, he must have. The others’ plates were empty, too. That was the trouble with rabbit—there was always enough to taste but never enough to fill. He laid the fork down regretfully. “I had hoped not to be marching on an empty stomach tomorrow, but that’s an awful lot to demand of just one rabbit.”

“Marching?” Teacher looked up. “Where?”

MacDonald lowered his voice. “Tomorrow, Virgil and I are taking Caesar to the city.”

“The city? It must still be crawling with radioactivity.”

“I know, but Caesar wants to go. Has to go.”

“But there’s nothing there! The city is dead.”

“And so will you be,” Doctor cut in sharply. “Unless you take a Geiger counter. Why are you going?”

“I told Caesar that there are tapes of his parents. He wants to see them.”

Teacher dropped his fork on the plate with a clatter. “That’s a stupid reason to risk your life.”

“There’s more to it than that,” said MacDonald. “Something that I didn’t tell Caesar, but something that I must find out. We must find out,” he corrected.

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure. It’s something that my brother told me, something that Caesar’s parents said about the future. About . . . the end of the world. We have to know what that is. I have to hear the tapes myself.”

He thought back, to when he had been a boy, to a time when men had gone to the moon. And beyond . . .

It had been an exciting time. The greatest mission of all had been when three men and a woman were launched into space to try to reach a nearby star. They had never returned, but the ship had come back, crashing off the California coast.

There had been three chimpanzees in it.

That had been the beginning of the end for the human race.

One of the chimpanzees had been killed, but two had survived, a male and a female named Cornelius and Zira. They had startled the world by their ability to speak, and they had revealed what had happened to Captain Taylor and the others, who had vanished on that fateful mission.

The ship had traveled not to another star but to the Earth’s own future. Taylor had survived and discovered that the roles of apes and men were reversed. Apes were intelligent, and men were speechless animals, kept in cages. Discovering this, Taylor had fled into the wilderness to seek other men—civilized men.

Another spaceman had come after Taylor, and he too had vanished into the wilderness. Cornelius and Zira had discovered Taylor’s spaceship, repaired it, and used it to travel back to Taylor’s time.

They told what they knew, but the information was dangerous. Something they had said about the future, the immediate future, had frightened the government, and they had been sequestered. Zira had become pregnant, and to save the life of their baby, the two apes had escaped. But they had been discovered and killed, the baby chimpanzee with them.

Or, had the baby chimp been killed? A young chimp had been killed, but was it Cornelius’ and Zira’s? It would be years before the truth became known.

Half a generation later, the world was a different place. Cornelius and Zira had been forgotten—almost. One of their predictions had already come true: a plague had wiped out almost all of the dogs and cats in the world, and human beings had turned to apes and monkeys to take their place.

The government had become monolithic and totalitarian, fearful of its own future; it was a repressive and all-controlling state, and as such, it needed slaves. As the intelligence of chimpanzees and orangutans and the strength of gorillas became recognized, apes were given more and more work to do. Scientists worked to raise their intelligence level, and apes began to approach human levels of understanding. They became the slaves the government needed to keep its real slaves—the people—content.

And then the second prediction had come true: an ape had said “No” to his human masters. The ape was Caesar. He had been raised in secret by Armando, the owner of a traveling circus, who had brought him to the city to see and to fulfill his destiny. Armando had been killed, but Caesar had stayed free long enough to lead the apes in revolt against their human masters. He had been captured by Governor Breck and almost killed. But he had been rescued by MacDonald’s brother. Caesar had led his people to freedom, and the world had plunged into war, and the cities had been flattened.

The few survivors, men and apes alike, returned to a simpler life. They lived in the forests, and the apes were the masters.

Now, today, nine years later, Caesar was going to go in search of his parents’ image. And MacDonald, with him, was going to search for the truth—just what was it that Cornelius and Zira had said that had frightened the government so badly and turned it into a dictatorship? Was it really the end of the world? Two of their predictions had already come true . . .

Just as Caesar had to know, so did MacDonald.

He came out of his reverie, realized that Doctor was looking at him, “Is this journey really necessary?” she asked.

He nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

She accepted that. She got up out of her chair and came around to him. “Be careful, Mac,” she said. “Please.” She kissed him long and hard. “Come back.”

He looked at her. “I have to know the truth.”

She lowered herself to his lap and put her arms around his neck. “Mac,” she whispered. “Life is more important than truth. If it costs you your life to find out the answer, what good will that do any of us?”

He couldn’t answer her question, not the way she had phrased it. Instead, he kissed her and said, “I’ll come back. And I’ll come back with the answers.”

And on the other side of Ape City, in a different house, an ape house, the same scene was being played between two apes.

“Caesar,” Lisa was saying. “Don’t go. Please don’t go.”

“Lisa, you remember your parents. I was too young when they died to remember mine.”

Lisa stiffened. “I don’t want to have to remember my husband. I want to love you now.”

He took her outstretched hand against his cheek, then he took her into his arms and rubbed his muzzle against hers. “Lisa, Lisa, dear. My parents left me knowledge, I must go find it. Perhaps they left me the knowledge that I need to lead our people. Apes must be better than humans ever were. Apes must build a world of peace and justice, freedom and equality. My parents came from the future; they came from such a world. They came from a world of apes—it must have been a time of graciousness and plenty. I need to know how such a world was built; perhaps they brought me the answer. I must take the chance. I must be the kind of leader that my people need, and to do that, I must have the knowledge that a leader needs. Lisa, my love, my wife, you are important to me—you are the most important thing in my life. But I have a mission with our people. I cannot shirk that responsibility.”

Lisa did not answer; she just lowered her eyes in sorrow.

Caesar kissed her. “I will take care, Lisa. I will.”

Lisa looked up at her husband. Her eyes were moist. “Say good morning to Cornelius, then, but not good-bye. I don’t want him to know that I’m afraid.”

Caesar smiled and nodded and rubbed her muzzle again in an affectionate chimpanzee kiss. Then he went into his son’s bedroom. Cornelius slept on a raised pallet beside a table; on the table was his favorite pet, a caged squirrel.

Caesar laid an index finger lightly on Cornelius’ forehead, Cornelius opened his eyes.

“Cornelius, I’m going on a journey.”

Drowsily, the little chimp asked, “What will you bring me back?”