“I’m sure it is not, Sergeant. But I’m going all the same.”

“Yes, sir.” Meissner watched Hasslein take his automatic from his pocket and work the slide. The scientist walked gingerly out on the planking leading to the big wrecked freighter in the center of the bay.

It bothered Meissner. He wasn’t responsible for Hasslein’s safety, but his officers would have his hide if anything happened to the president’s advisor while Meissner was with him.

And what about those apes? Meissner didn’t trust Hasslein. But the Captain had told him to take Hasslein’s orders—what could he do? He moved quickly to deploy the men. The sooner he could get out there, the better he’d feel.

TWENTY-TWO

“It’s no use, Stevie,” Lewis said. “They’re not going to let us in.” He turned back to the Marines at the gate to the oil field. “Corporal, do you understand what responsibility you’re taking? Those chimpanzees were put under my care, I know they’re down there and Dr. Hasslein is searching for them—and you won’t let me in! What if something happens to one of the apes? Who’ll care for them?”

The Marine stood impassively in front of the gate. “All I know, sir, is the Sergeant told me to wait for an officer and not to let nobody in here until the officer came. I’m doing that.”

“Lewis,” Stevie called from the car. “Does he have a radio? Can he call someone?”

‘Right,” Lewis said. “Well? Do you have communications?”

“Well, yes, sir, but I don’t think civilians are supposed to—”

“Corporal, if you don’t use that set to call an officer for me, and anything happens to those chimps while we’re standing here waiting for orders, I’ll do my best to have you shot.” Lewis’s voice was cold and hard, and he saw he’d gotten to the Marine. “Call the base.”

The Marine nodded. “All right, sir. Who do you want to get?”

“Admiral Jardin. Now!”

“The admiral—” the Marine’s eyes widened slightly. “Yes, sir.” He lifted the microphone from its hook in the jeep and called.

Lewis stood and fidgeted. Stevie got out of the car and stood with him. It seemed to take forever. Finally the Marine motioned to them.

“Yes, Dr. Dixon?” the admiral’s voice said.

Lewis explained the situation. “Hasslein’s down there with a squad of Marines and no officer,” he finished. “I don’t like it, Admiral.”

There was a long silence. “I don’t like it either, Dixon. Corporal!”

The Marine snapped to attention, then looked sheepish and took the mike. “Yes, sir.”

“Let Dr. Dixon and Dr. Branton go through that gate. No. Cancel that. Go with them, Corporal. Do as Dr. Dixon tells you, and when you see your sergeant, tell him that I said he is to take Dr. Dixon’s orders too. Even if Dr. Hasslein orders differently. Is that understood?”

“Yessir. I’m to go with these people and tell the Sarge he’s to do what this man here says.”

“Get moving,” the admiral snapped.

“It’ll be faster in my jeep,” the Marine told them. “Sir. Ma’am. Get in.” He turned the jeep and headed over the oil field. As Dixon urged him on, the jeep began to bounce and left behind a cloud of dust.

They stopped at the edge of the bluff. Below, Sergeant Meissner had deployed his men around the small cove, and now moved cautiously out on the boards toward the freighter. Hasslein was already on the ship. Lewis and Stevie saw him vanish down a companionway.

“Quick,” Lewis said. “We’ve got to get down there!” He took Stevie’s hand and they ran down the pathway, with the corporal scrambling after them. When they reached the water’s edge there was no sign of either Hasslein or Sergeant Meissner.

It was dark in the old ship, and Victor Hasslein wished for a flashlight. He stumbled on something, and caught himself; some small hard object rattled down the stairs and into the rotten hull below.

“Cornelius?”

Zira’s voice! He was certain of it. Hasslein moved toward the sound.

“Is that you, Cornelius?”

He heard scrambling. She was leaving her hiding place, moving somewhere, suspicious, but Hasslein did not dare answer. He listened, and moved cautiously, following the sound. She would have the infant with her, and she was separated from the other ape. That should make it easier.

She was moving upward, toward the deck, he realized. Quickly he turned back up the stairs and went out onto the deck, moving silently, and crossed over to the other stairway he’d seen. He listened. Yes, she was coming. Hasslein stepped back, away from the cabin entrance, and waited.

There she was. Carrying the baby, wrapped in a blanket. He waited until she was completely out of the cabin, out on the deck where she couldn’t escape—“Hello, Zira.”

She screamed. The shrill sound carried all over the shipyard. Then she turned to run.

“No,” Hasslein said. “I’ll shoot. Stand where you are—”

She darted around the cabin side. Hasslein ran after her, not in time, as she vanished down into the ship again. He looked around for the first time, to see Dixon and another Marine coming across the boardwalk toward the ship.

Now or never, Hasslein thought. Pity it has to be this way. He ran into the interior of the ship. It was silent—and then he heard the cry, the whimper of an infant. He went through the old superstructure, and came out in the open at the ship’s fantail. Zira was there, cornered.

“Give me the baby, Zira,” he said. He held the pistol very steady. “Give it to me, now, or I’ll shoot both of you.”

“No. You’ll kill us both anyway—”

“The Commission ordered you sterilized. The same thing could be done with the baby. None of you has to die—”

She turned to run again. Hasslein shouted, “No, wait—” Then he took careful aim and fired.

Zira fell to the deck. Hasslein fired again, into the blanketed form she carried. He started toward the two still forms, moving slowly, his face a mask.

There was a shot. Victor Hasslein felt it before he heard it—excruciating pain in his chest. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe, and every beat of his heart was agony. He turned to see Cornelius, pistol in hand, on the ship’s bridge high above. The ape’s face was twisted with rage.

‘‘Zira!” Cornelius shouted.

It all seems so trivial now, Hasslein thought. The pain wasn’t so bad, it had been much worse a minute ago. I don’t feel it because I’m dying, he thought. But what happened to Cornelius? And who is shouting so loud? There were other shots, and screams, but he no longer heard them. Hasslein fell to the deck and was very still.

Lewis Dixon saw it as a nightmare, the kind in which everything happens in slow motion and there is nothing anyone can do no matter how horrible it is.

He ran across the planking toward the ship. He had almost reached it when he heard the first shots.

“No!” Lewis shouted. “Sergeant! I have orders from the admiral! The chimpanzees are not to be harmed!”

There was another shot. Cornelius stood high above him on the bridge of the ship, and he held the pistol Lewis had given him. He was aiming at someone or something below, and Sergeant Meissner was coming up behind him shouting for him to drop the pistol.

Cornelius took careful aim.

“God damn you!” the Sergeant screamed. “Drop that—”

Cornelius fired again. And again.

Sergeant Meissner screamed wordless rage and triggered his weapon. Cornelius straightened and half turned toward the Marine; then he fell from the bridge onto the fantail, landing in a heap near the motionless form of Victor Hasslein.

Nightmare! Lewis thought. And it was not over yet. Now Zira pulled herself up, holding the blanketed baby, and threw it over the side into the oily water below.