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"I've still got the pass Dr. Zaius gave us for explorations outside Ape City. And there should be enough confusion--what with the expedition getting started and all---so that no one will bother to check back with him to see if it's still valid. Anyway, he'll be hard to locate. Start gathering the tools, while I get the truck out."15Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGsQerOw7Qz
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It took Cornelius and Zira less than a day and a night to drive the distance it'd taken Steve and the others to cover on foot in six days. The road, if the seldom-used dirt track up into the mountains could be called that, was nevertheless easy to follow. And Cornelius knew where to turn off, onto a rutted path barely visible in the rocks and shrub. It was a a path he'd made himself, in his original investigations of the humanoids' culture.
The path soon began to run parallel to a small river that grew rapidly larger as the track wound around the foot of the protecting mountains. Before long, they began to spot humanoids in canoes on the river---humanoids who seemed to recognize them, and who did not run in fear as they had so many years before, when Cornelius and Zira didn't realize it, the many species of birds here represented almost every continent of the 64th century Earth. Most of them were not native to the area. Cormorants and gulls fought with pelicans, cranes, eagles and African vultures. All the species of a well-stocked zoo. Here they could survive. Man did not hunt them.
Cornelius turned the truck to skirt an area of marshy ground next to the river, and when the track turned back to the river, he and Zira began to see more and more humanoids on the sandy beaches. Men and children splashed in the sluggishly flowing water; women lined the banks, washing skin clothes and filling large gourds which they bore away on their heads to the caves that spotted the mountainsides nearby.
The track soon gave way to a more traveled trail, worn into the hard ground by generations of humanoids going from the caves to the river. Again, there was a mixture of plants and animals. Small pine trees and maples mixed with tropical palms, whose fronds moved gently in the slight breeze blowing through the valley. At one point the truck rolled by a field of naturally growing mangoes. Small humanoid children were running among the dark-green trees picking the fruit and heaping it on palm leaves for larger children to carry back to the caves.
Cornelius eased the truck to a stop in the dusty clearing, its engine coughing once before falling silent. The late afternoon sun slanted through the trees, casting golden bars of light across the clearing—and across the small group waiting for him.
Zira leaned forward in her seat, eyes wide as she spotted the “welcoming committee” assembled before the caves: six tired, dirty, but determined humans. Steve stood at the front, arms folded, a hard edge in his expression that softened slightly when he saw her. Dan was just behind him, flanked by Betty and Valerie. Mark Wilson hung back, watchful, while Fitzhugh—his clothes rumpled, hair a mess—lounged against a tree trunk with all the poise of a man thoroughly unimpressed.
Fitzhugh straightened up and gave a mock flourish of his hand. "Well, well, if it isn’t Doctor Zira and her loyal chauffeur. I was beginning to think you’d abandoned your little human experiment." He gave Steve a sideways glance. "Next time, maybe send a telegram before you drive up like you own the place."
Zira stepped out of the truck, her usual composure intact despite the sarcastic jab. She adjusted her satchel over one shoulder and looked directly at Fitzhugh. "I assure you that I've never abandoned anything I considered important. Including people---whatever their attitude," she said coolly.
Cornelius followed her down, dusting off his sleeves as he approached. "And for the record," he said mildly, "this 'chauffeur' has risked quite a lot to get here in one piece. We might appreciate a little less hostility and a bit more gratitude."
Before Fitzhugh could fire back, Steve stepped forward, jaw tight, voice low but commanding. "That's enough, Fitzhugh. Cease and desist. You've made your point--and you're not helping anyone. We've got more important things to deal with than your cheap theatrics."
Fitzhugh raised his hands in mock surrender, muttering under his breath, but fell silent.
Zira gave Steve a nod of quiet appreciation before glancing at the others. "Now," she we talk inside. Time may be shorter than any of us think."
Inside the shadowy coolness of the caves, the castaways gathered in a loose semicircle around Cornelius and Zira. The flickering light of a small battery-operated lamp from Cornelius's truck played across the walls and across their tired, anxious faces.
Dan crossed his arms and looked directly at Cornelius. “What brings you all the way out here? What’s going on?”
Cornelius glanced at Zira, then took a breath and spoke gravely. “There’s trouble. Serious trouble.”
At those words, the group exchanged uneasy looks—Betty biting her lip, Valerie lowering her eyes, Steve's jaw tightening. But it was Fitzhugh who broke the silence with his usual lack of restraint.
“Oh dear," Fitzhugh mocked. "The talking chimp says there’s trouble. What now? Someone misfile a banana shipment?”
Zira’s eyes narrowed, but Cornelius pressed on, ignoring the jab. “The Supreme Council has authorized a full expedition into the Forbidden Zone. General Urko is leading it personally. Their goal is to locate the site of the crashed spaceship—the one you came in."
Steve took a step forward. "How long do you think we have before the expedition will be ready t leave Ape City," he asked.
"And how long will it take them to reach the Forbidden Zone once they do get moving?" Dan supplied.
"Probably three days before they leave," Cornelius said grimly. "Then two days to reach the edge of the Forbidden Zone."
"And another day or two from the edge of the Zone to the riverbank," Valerie said.
"You know this country better than we do," Dan said. "How long will it take us to reach the Forbidden Zone from here?"
"At least four days," Cornelius answered.
"And," Steve said, "since we'll be on foot, about two days from the Zone's edge to the riverbank."
“Lovely," Fitzhugh complained. "Six miserable days for us on foot, and six delightful days for Urko and his gorilla thugs to stomp around in circles looking for us. What a charming symmetry!”
"If you get started right away," Zira reminded them, "and you don't have any trouble finding the river. After all, you're sort of wandered around in the Forbidden Zone. Are you sure you can wander back in the same way?"
Steve turned to Zira, his voice low but clear, laced with a mix of conviction and concern. “The humanoids know where the river is—at least that much we’ve figured out. At some point, they must’ve tried to cross the Forbidden Zone. My guess? They were trying to get away from the Apes. They made it as far as the river and camped there for a few days—probably hoping it’d lead to something better on the other side. But it didn’t. That was the last water they found, so they had to turn back. And on the return trip, they stopped there again. I think the place must’ve made an impression, stuck in… whatever it is they use for minds.”
Steve and Dan stood slightly apart from the others, the weight of Cornelius’s question hanging heavy in the dusty air.
Steve folded his arms, brow furrowed. “There is a way to destroy the Spindrift. Self-destruct mechanism. But once it’s gone, it’s gone for good.”
Dan nodded, troubled. “The Marintha’s still a possibility. If we can get parts off the Spindrift…”
Steve cut in, voice tense. “Only if we can get there first. If Urko finds it—if Zaius finds it—we’re done. It’s not just about us anymore. That ship is proof. Technology they’ll twist, and fear, and maybe use to start a war. Again.”
Dan paced, running a hand through his hair. “What if… we don’t destroy it, but make it invisible to them? Camouflage, booby traps, false trails—anything to slow them down.”
“You think we can pull that off with the time we’ve got?”
“Barely. But maybe we don’t need to stop them—just delay them. Long enough for us to get back, get what we need… then trigger the self-destruct remotely.”
Steve’s eyes lit up slightly. “The remote trigger… it might still work. If the receiver’s intact.”
Dan gave a sharp nod. “Then we have a shot. We don’t blow it now. We use the Spindrift one last time—to stop a war, or maybe, to end one.”
Steve turned away from Dan and Cornelius and faced the cluster of humanoids gathered silently near the mouth of the cave. They had been watching the exchange intently, their eyes wide, postures alert, sensing something important had passed between the men and the apes, even if they didn’t fully understand it.
He stepped forward slowly, not wanting to startle them. His voice was firm but calm. “We need one of you to take us to the riverbank. The place of running waters.”
The humanoids stirred at the sound of his voice, glancing at one another uncertainly.
Steve extended his right arm and pointed westward, toward the distant haze that veiled the edge of the Forbidden Zone. He held the gesture for a moment, then lowered his hand and swept it fluidly in a horizontal wave-like motion across his body, fingers rippling through the air. It was a clear mimic of moving water, a visual language simple enough that even the least articulate among them could grasp it.
The moment Steve finished his gesture—his arm sweeping like flowing water toward the western horizon—the group of humanoids recoiled in unison, their reactions sharp and immediate. Eyes widened in alarm, and their bodies tensed as if the very mention of the riverbank conjured something dreadful.
They jumped back a few steps, kicking up dust, and began to shake their heads violently, their matted hair whipping from side to side. Fear was etched across their faces—raw, instinctive, unfiltered.
Low, guttural sounds burst from their throats—deep, choked noises that rose in pitch and urgency. One let out a harsh “Uhh-rrhh! Uhh-rrhh!”—another echoed with a tremulous “Graahhn-nuh! Graahhn-nuh!” A third let slip a rasping, breathy “Ka-ka-kaaaa!” as he gripped his own arms and hunched over as if warding off some unseen terror.
"Why, it sounds like they're trying to speak," Zira exclaimed. "Did you and your friends teach them that?"
"No," Steve said. "I don't think they're trying to speak---not the way you, I, and the others speak, anyway. I've worked with them a bit, and what they're doing is mouthing a set of sounds that are the sounds of something else. Like, when they want to indicate a bird, they trill like a bird. And a rabbit is a tummmm-paaaa-tumpaaaa. And a beaver a chewing sound. All these sounds are modified by long use and are somewhat standardized now. Which is probably how our language started, too."
Fitzhugh crossed his arms and backed a step away from the distressed humanoids, his expression contorting into a half-smirk, half-sneer as their cries echoed through the clearing. “Well, isn’t that just charming,” he said with acidic sarcasm. “Our noble savages seem to be warning us in their own eloquent way: ‘No. Not there. Not again.’ He mimicked their headshakes and chest-thumping with theatrical flair, then added with a scoff, “One would think we just asked them to waltz into the jaws of hell.”
Mark, who’d been watching the humanoids closely, frowned and nodded slowly. “For once, he might actually be right,” he muttered, glancing at Steve and Dan. “Whatever happened to them out there… they’re terrified. That place left a scar.”
Betty looked between the humanoids and the castaways, her voice hushed. “They didn’t just visit that river. They survived it.”
Steve went through the pantomime of going to the Forbidden Zone once again, and again they tried to warn him.
“Uhh-rrhh! Uhh-rrhh!” they exclaimed, trying to back away from Steve as he approached them.
"We have to!"
One of the cavedwellers, a young female, no more than a teenager, looked up at Steve with wide, uncertain eyes. As the words seemed to hang in the air, a tear started to form in her eye, slowly rolling down her dusty cheek.
She took a shaky breath, her thin frame trembling slightly, then, with a reluctant but resolute movement, she nodded. The gesture was small but filled with an undeniable strength—a silent acknowledgment that she understood the risk, that she was willing to trust them, even in this strange and dangerous world. She didn't speak, but the simple nod of agreement was her answer.
Yes.
"Okay," Steve said, "if we're going to beat the baddies to the ship, we'd best be getting on the road. Cornelius----Zira---I don't know how we can thank you for all you've done for us.
"You don't have to thank us," Zira said with a sniffle. "Just be careful, please? I've grown very fond of all of you. You're almost like my family."
Steve smiled at her, then shook hands with Cornelius as Dan hugged Zira.
Fitzhugh watched the warm exchange between the humans and the two chimpanzee scientists with his usual arched brow and arms folded tightly across his chest.
“Well, isn’t this touching,” he quipped, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Shaking hands with monkeys and hugging tree-climbers. I suppose next we’ll be throwing them a welcome banquet and electing them to Congress.”
But as he muttered the words, his gaze lingered on Zira’s calm composure and Cornelius’s quiet resolve. A flicker of doubt crossed his face—barely perceptible, but there. The corner of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, not quite a scowl.
“Still…” he added more softly, almost to himself, “I’ve seen worse diplomats in Washington.”
As the six castaways and the young cavegirl scrambled up the cliff toward the cave where their supplies were kept, Zira looked up at them and then began to cry silently.
"Come now, Zira dearest," Cornelius answered gently. "This is no way for a behavioral scientist to act."
"Right now, I don't feel like a scientist," Zira mumbled, "I just feel like a chimpanzee female."
