“Unpleasant?” Hasslein said. “It’s a tragedy! Dixon, do you think I enjoy this? Do you?”

“Yes, I rather think you do,” Lewis said.

“How wrong you are,” Hasslein said. “Sit down, Dr. Dixon. You may as well. I doubt that either of us will convince the other of anything, but you can be comfortable while we argue. When the argument is finished—I don’t suppose you would care to perform the operation yourself?”

“Jesus Christ, Hasslein! I won’t be a part of your monstrous—”

“You don’t have to, Dr. Dixon. I merely suggested it in case you loved them enough to want to be sure it was done as painlessly and efficiently, and as safely, as possible. I see that you do not.”

“That’s hardly fair,” Lewis said. He sat heavily in the padded chair across from Hasslein. “Got another of those cigarettes?”

“Certainly.” Hasslein passed the pack across the desk. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

“I haven’t, for five years. It seems like the thing to do tonight.”

“You are very concerned, and it is fitting,” Hasslein said. “Have you thought that I am also concerned? Consider, Dixon. I am sacrificing what may be one of the most important discoveries in history. Talking animals—intelligent, nonhuman creatures, who are aware and conscious, and who breed true. Marvelous. And I am as uncomfortably aware as you that I have no philosophical grounds for thinking myself any better than they are.”

“But—Dr. Hasslein, if you believe that, why are you doing this?”

“Because if I am right, the human race will be sacrificed if we preserve these animals. If I am wrong, then we have sacrificed only two individuals. Charming. Innocent. But only two.”

“Two? The orders said nothing about the parents. Only the unborn child. You want the parents dead as well, don’t you, Hasslein? Damn it, answer me!”

Hasslein shrugged. “I would be more comfortable if they were all dead. Yes. But the orders are precise, and I will carry them out to the letter. That is why I asked if you wish to perform the operations—so that you can be certain that no more is to be done than we have been ordered to do. I would not care to be accused of killing the adults if—if anything goes wrong.”

“What could go wrong?” Lewis demanded. “There better not be anything. If you murder those chimpanzees, you’ll answer for it.”

“How you misunderstand me,” Hasslein said. “I carry out my duties, Dr. Dixon. I think we are taking sufficient measures to safeguard the human race. I only want to see them accomplished, and until the job is done, I will worry. We are attempting to change the future, and although I believe in theory we can do that, I confess some doubts. Have another cigarette?”

“No, thank you—what’s that?”

There was a disturbance outside in the hall. “It sounds as if someone is shouting,” Dr. Hasslein said. “Come, let us go see what it is . . .”

Cornelius looked back at the chain-link fence of Camp Pendleton. “I think that is the last of them, my dear,” he said. “We are outside the camp entirely now, if my memory is correct.”

“But what will we do?” Zira asked. They stumbled along in the light of a quarter moon. The narrow road seemed eerie, and they heard rustlings in the chaparral and scrub oak of the fields around them.

“We’ll have to find clothing,” Cornelius said. “Hats. Enough clothes to disguise ourselves as humans.”

“I don’t think we can do that—oh. Uh!”

“What’s the matter?”

“Calmly, Cornelius. Calmly. Now. Are you calm?”

“Yes—"

“Good. I think my labor has started.”

“You what?”

“It must have been the exertion of climbing. I wonder what it was like for primitive apes, when they had to climb trees all the time, right up to the time—”

“But—but—we have to do something!” Cornelius protested. “I’ll have to go back for help!”

“Nonsense. We had children for thousands of years without help. I’ll manage. And I do have you.”

“But—”

“We had better get off the road, though,” Zira said. “Come on.” She took his hand and led him down the embankment and into the chaparral. “There’s a road on the other side.”

“Same road,” Cornelius said. “It makes a big U here to get up the side of the bluff. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Of course—oh!”

“Again? We’d better—” he broke off, as there was a thunder of wings. A California quail took to the air from beneath their feet.

“Like a machine gun,” Zira said. “Will they come looking for us? With their army?”

“Possibly. You’d better get some rest. Only—if you can still walk—”

“Of course I can still walk. I’m a perfectly healthy female chimpanzee.”

“Then I would like to get further away while we can—” he stopped to listen.

“What do you hear?” Zira asked.

There was the faint wail of a siren behind them. Cornelius turned back to his wife. “Nothing. Just another bird.” He took her hand and led her down the embankment.

NINETEEN

Lewis Dixon knelt beside the white-coated body. There was no pulse at all. He motioned for a blanket, then looked up to Victor Hasslein who stood in the doorway. “Dead,” Lewis said. His voice was incredulous.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hasslein said.

“Sure you are,” Lewis said. He covered the dead orderly and stood. “Sure.”

“I really am. I don’t know why your opinion is important to me, Dr. Dixon, since it is obvious that you will never think well of me, but I find myself trying to convince you that I’m not a monster thirsting for innocent blood.”

“You want the chimpanzees dead. You’ll use this as an excuse to hunt them down.”

“Certainly. They are a threat to humanity, to civilization, to science, to everything I hold dear, and they must be destroyed. I wish they were evil. It would make this easier.” Hasslein waited until the attendants had finished covering Tommy, then turned away. “Even this, I expect, was an accident; but it will make things easier.” He walked rapidly to his office and began telephoning. Within minutes there were sirens throughout Camp Pendleton, and jeeps of armed men drove rapidly through and around the camp grounds.

Hasslein hesitated before making the next telephone call. As he stared at the phone, Lewis Dixon came into his office. Hasslein looked up with a frown. “Yes?”

“What orders did you give them?” Lewis demanded. “Are they going to shoot on sight?”

“I merely told the Admiral that the prisoners had escaped, and that they had killed one of his Marines doing so.”

“Jesus! That’ll make the others trigger-happy . . .”

“Possibly. I hope so,” Hasslein said. “I can admit that to you. Dixon, don’t you care? In future times, another Shakespeare, another Edison, another Einstein, may be crawling on all fours, unable to speak, a brute with no culture doomed to a life of misery—and all because of these apes. Can’t you understand it’s them or us?”

“Even if I believed that, I couldn’t condone killing them out of hand.”

“No. I suppose not.” Hasslein lifted the telephone. “General Brody, please. If you’ll excuse me, Dr. Dixon, I must report to the president.” He waited until Lewis had gone, then lit a cigarette. They took a long time getting Brody on the phone, and it took even longer for Hasslein to explain what had happened.

“What orders do the Marines have?” Brody demanded.

“To recapture them, of course—”

“Yeah. Recapture them, but they know these monkeys have killed one of their buddies. They won’t do it without damned strong orders. You’ll see that they get those orders, Hasslein. We want those chimps alive. Is that understood?”

“I thought you were in agreement with me, General,” Hasslein protested.

“What’s that got to do with it?” Brody demanded. “The president’s going to insist on the same damned thing. Those apes are to be recaptured, alive, and to hell with what they’ve done or haven’t done. Have you got that? I’ve seen the Harris poll on those monkeys, Hasslein. You shoot them down out of hand and you’ll make a political crisis. The people think of those apes as human. Every science type in the country wants an interview with ’em. And so on. I want them back alive, Hasslein, and so will the boss. You got that?”