Escape From The Planet Of The Apes (14 page)

“What do you mean, this human had a unique skin?”

“It was black,” Zira said. “Coal black. He dominated the room in the Museum of Natural History.”

“Lieutenant Dodge,” Hasslein whispered. “What happened to Taylor?”

“Did you dissect Colonel Taylor?” Amalfi asked.

“No! We loved Colonel Taylor.”

“All of you? All apes?”

“Many of us,” she said. “We did everything we could to help him. Cornelius and I—”

She struggled against the restraining straps on the table. Dixon quickly stepped over and looked at her. “That’s all,” he said. “And no, Dr. Hasslein, I won’t give her another injection.”

“Cornelius!” Zira called. She opened her eyes and looked wildly around, but she could see only Lewis Dixon.

“It’s all right,” Lewis said. “Go to sleep now.” He turned to Hasslein. “She’ll need a nap.”

“Very well.” Hasslein opened the door to admit a white-coated young Marine. “Orderly, take this chimpanzee to its quarters, and see that Dr. Dixon gets anything he needs for treating it.”

“Yes, sir.” Tommy Billings, age nineteen, went over to the operating table. “Hey, she’s really out, isn’t she? Come on, girl, it’s all right now. Let’s get you back to your room.” He looked up at Hasslein and Dixon. “You didn’t hurt her, did you? You got no cause to hurt her. She never did anything—”

“Just return that chimpanzee to its room, Orderly,” said Hasslein.

“Yes, sir.” As he wheeled the rolling table out, he spoke gently to the sleeping form. “Come on, nobody’s going to hurt you now. Tommy’ll take care of you. I like monkeys. We had three pet monkeys and a chimp in the little zoo next to my high school. I took care of ’em sometimes. You just come on . . .” They left the room.

“I think we have heard enough,” Hasslein said.

“Heard enough for what?” Lewis Dixon demanded.

“Come now, Dr. Dixon. Even you see the danger from these apes. But if you don’t, yet, I’m sure you will when I’ve finished my presentation to the Commission. You’ll understand then.”

Victor Hasslein’s voice was low and urgent as he spoke to the commissioners. “I think,” he said, “that I have adequately demonstrated my points; allow me to sum up.” He looked across at the dozen men and women seated at the big mahogany table in the Federal Building. He had them all, he was sure; all, that is, except Dixon. And possibly Cardinal MacPherson. The rest would agree.

“First,” Hasslein said, “I have demonstrated that these apes can interbreed with primitive apes, and produce a talking species; and without that admixture, it is unlikely that apes will learn to talk within the next thousand years at least.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the commissioners. “Second,” Hasslein continued, “I have demonstrated that the development of talking apes would be an unprecedented and unparalleled catastrophe. In the future to which these apes belong, not only did the apes revolt against man, but after that revolt, it seems clear to me, the apes hunted down all the men who could speak or act rationally; they systematically destroyed every last trace of human culture. This was the reward they meted out to us for having given them the power of speech!”

“Surely, Dr. Hasslein, that has not been established beyond doubt,” Cardinal MacPherson said.

“Perhaps not, Your Eminence,” Hasslein replied. “But we do know that the apes revolted against men; and within a few centuries, men could no longer speak. It is a reasonable supposition.”

“I see,” the Cardinal said. He nodded slowly.

“Thirdly, I submit to you that this female chimpanzee has been guilty of the most unspeakable tortures of humans; and that although she personally did not kill Colonel Taylor, her people did, along with Lieutenant Dodge—whom they exhibited, stuffed, in a museum.” Hasslein looked straight into Congressman Boyd’s eyes as he said this; and was rewarded with a look of pure hatred. Boyd was ready to vote for anything.

“The president is waiting for your recommendation, ladies and gentlemen,” Hasslein said. “We are faced with a danger, not to the United States alone, but to the entire human race. I say we must act.”

“But surely,” Chairman Hartley said, “surely, Dr. Hasslein, there could be no danger from these chimpanzees if they remain confined and under our control?”

Hasslein shrugged. “Gentlemen. Ladies. I haven’t time to explain my notion of the meaning of time itself—no joke intended. But I can say this: the future is not unalterable, but the very fact that, to these apes, that bleak and horrifying world in which our descendants live as dumb brutes
has
happened makes it very likely that it
will
happen. So long as those apes are alive, their genes may, somehow, enter the breeding pool for all apes. So long as they are alive, they are a danger to every man who will ever live! To the descendants of every one of us.”

“Very dramatic,” the cardinal said. “As I have no descendants and no likelihood of any, I can speak with a certain detachment, and I say that neither of these chimpanzees is guilty of anything worthy of the death penalty. We would not execute dogs on that evidence. Why should we kill intelligent, speaking, aware beings?”

“Come now, Your Eminence, you are hardly suggesting that these apes have souls?” Chairman Hartley demanded. “Surely—”

“I make no suggestion of the sort,” the cardinal said. “I don’t have to. On the other hand, I don’t really feel comfortable about the world Dr. Hasslein describes. It is grim, and should be prevented. I do not think, however, that evil can be prevented by greater evil. The slaughter of the innocents did Herod little good. It was not successful for Pharoah. Why would not the very attempt bring about the evil we seek to prevent? It always has.”

Hasslein snorted. “Admirable sentiment, but faulty reasoning. If we do nothing, then the future these apes come from is likely. We must prevent that. We must!”

Chairman Hartley rapped for order. “Gentlemen! Ladies! Please! Dr. Hasslein, I realize that the president wants a decision as quickly as possible. I suggest we have a half hour recess to regain our composure, and that we then meet here to make a definitive decision as to what must be done with these apes. Do I hear any objections? It is so ordered.” The gavel fell.

It took three days, not three hours. Even then there was no unanimity to the decision. It was late in the evening when the Commission met for the last time. Lewis Dixon sat impassively, but there was a bitter taste in his mouth, and his throat was dry.

Dr. Hartley read to the commissioners. “It is my duty to announce that the president has accepted and approved the following final findings and recommendations made by this special Commission.

“First, we find no evidence whatever that either of these apes bears any hostility toward the human race as presently constituted, or that either ape represents, by himself or herself, a clear and present danger to the human race. This finding was unanimous.”

There were murmurs of assent around the table. That one had been easy enough.

“Second,” Hartley droned. “We find that the male chimpanzee known as Cornelius has not, so far as we can determine, taken any part in atrocities against human beings or crimes against humanity; and we further find that he is and was always a deeply interested and well-disposed academician who has studied the coming downfall of the human race with the objectivity of a good historian. He is guilty of nothing worthy of punishment. This finding is also unanimous.

“Third, we find that the female chimpanzee known as Zira has been guilty of actions which, considered objectively, constitute crimes against humanity, and if such actions were committed today, would warrant the most severe punishment. However, this Commission finds itself unable to agree upon whether such actions, undoubtedly atrocities in our present time, can be called crimes at all given the circumstances of the chimpanzee Zira’s culture. It is specifically noted that the actions, which we call atrocities, committed by Zira on the persons of humans in her time are commonly performed today on the bodies of beasts, and for the same motives; and that Zira apparently believed, until her encounter with Colonel Taylor, that humans were no more than dumb animals."

Congressman Boyd cleared his throat loudly.

“Yes, Mister Boyd?” Chairman Hartley said.

“Mister Chairman, I want that report to show that this finding was
not
unanimous. Given the history—history which her husband Cornelius undoubtedly knew—the apes had no right to consider humans in the same category as beasts, and furthermore, I submit, they did not so consider them. They saw them as former masters, and took revenge on them when and where possible—”

“Excuse me, Congressman," Hartley interrupted. “You will be allowed to present the minority report—”

There were more murmurs around the table.

“—your minority report, I should say, at a later time. All of you who wish to present minority reports will be given the opportunity. The majority report notes that this finding is not unanimous.”

He continued reading. “The Commission does find, by majority vote, that either Zira has committed no crime which deserves prosecution; or that, being an ape, she cannot be tried by the standards imposed by the International Law of War Crime; or that this Commission has no jurisdiction over Zira, without regard to the truth or falsity of the first two propositions; and the Commission is therefore agreed that it does
not
recommend any prosecution of the chimpanzee Zira. Is this a fair statement, Commissioners?”

There were more murmured assents. Someone said, “Get on with it. It’s nearly dinner time.”

“I will attempt to do so,” Hartley said. He lifted his paper again and read, “This Commission finds that although these apes do not themselves represent a threat to the human race, their progeny, by interbreeding with common apes, may well do so; that unless these progeny interbreed with common apes, the future described by Cornelius and Zira is so improbable as to be to all purposes impossible; and that, therefore, without considerations of justice, but purely in the interests of expediency and the physical salvation of the human race, this Commission recommends to the President of the United States that the birth of the female ape’s unborn child be prevented, and that the two adult apes be sterilized permanently by painless means; that after sterilization is performed, they may be considered wards of the United States and employed in such wise as their talents would best indicate, with due regard to their own stated desires.”

“It’s still murder,” the Cardinal muttered. “Abortion is always murder. Why not let the little ape be born and sterilize
it
if they’re so anxious—it’s the Slaughter of the Innocents again, and no good can come from it.”

“We have heard your views before,” Hasslein said. “I appreciate your concern, Your Eminence. It is not your responsibility. Let it be on my head.”

“On your head and on your children, is that it, Dr. Hasslein? Fortunately, God won’t permit you to pass that guilt on to your children.”

“If you are quite finished,” Chairman Hartley said. He read again. “These findings being adopted by this Commission and presented to the President of the United States, and having been accepted by the president, Dr. Victor Hasslein by Executive Order is given authority to carry out the recommendations of this Commission, and is hereby ordered to do so immediately.” Hartley looked at the assembled group. “I think there is nothing else, is there? No?” He raised his gavel. “I hereby declare this Commission dissolved.” The gavel fell again, and the sound was like the crack of doom to Lewis Dixon.

Lewis parked in the driveway outside Stephanie’s Glendale home. She came outside to meet him, and he pulled her to him, kissed her desperately.

“Hey,” she said finally. “What’s wrong?”

“Does it show?”

“Yes. That wasn’t just for me, Lew—what is it?”

He told her. All of it. “At least they’ll be allowed to live, but—it’s horrible, Stevie.”

“Do they know yet?”

“No,” Lewis said. “But Hasslein will tell them tomorrow. He’ll have the operation done tomorrow, too. Stevie, he’s terrified of those chimpanzees. He really sees them as the end of the human race.”

She shuddered in his arms. “Lew—shouldn’t we tell them? Shouldn’t someone, a friend, be with them when they find out? We can’t just wait until Hasslein comes in and—does it.”

“Yeah. I’d thought the same thing. That’s why I came here, Stevie. I can’t face them alone. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.”

“Let’s go.”

“But, Lewis, I can’t now. Not for an hour. I’ve got my sister’s children here! I can’t leave them alone . . .”

“Get a sitter,” Lewis growled. “You know Hasslein. He’s likely to go down there tonight.”

“It will take a few minutes to get a sitter,” Stevie said. “Lewis, if it’s that urgent, you better drive down right now. I’ll join you as soon as I can. I won’t be long, not more than half an hour behind you.”

“But that half hour could be crucial. All right darling. Hurry. And—I love you.”

“I’m glad.” She smiled, but there was pain in her eyes as well, and she stood watching him drive away for nearly half a minute before running inside to the telephone. Her nieces couldn’t understand why she was crying.

“Here’s your wife back, sir,” Tommy Billings said. He wheeled Zira into the suite she had shared with Cornelius. “I know you’ve been worried about her, sir. Here she is, safe and sound.” The orderly helped Zira to her feet, then left them alone.

“Three days,” Cornelius said. “I’ve been nearly out of my mind!”

“Didn’t they tell you I was all right?” Zira asked.

“Of course they
said
so,” he answered. “But after what they did I wouldn’t believe anything they said. Savages! Barbarians! Jabbing needles into a pregnant woman! Even gorillas wouldn’t think of that.”

“Yes, dear.” She moved closer to him. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”

“O Lord, yes.” He took her in his arms, then led her to a chair. “You shouldn’t be standing. Sorry the furniture’s so—” he shrugged, “functional.” He gestured at the plain room with its government-issued equipment.