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“Won’t they know it’s a trap?”

“They might. But they need the fruit. Cut off their supply—increase your presence on the Mill Valley side of the woods, so they can’t forage in that direction.”

Corbin nodded and reluctantly grinned.

“You guys may finally be starting to earn your keep.”

“Just remember your promise,” Clancy said.

“Noted and logged,” Corbin replied. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Well, if you’re done in here, let’s lock up and turn in,” he said.

“I’d like to stay for a while, do a little research,” Clancy said. “I might be able to refine the plan a little.”

“This is a sensitive area,” Corbin said. “You’re not allowed in here unsupervised. And I’m tired of supervising for today.”

Clancy shrugged.

“Whatever,” she said. “I guess I am sleepy at that.”

* * *

Malakai had his doubts about that, so when he heard the faint creak of the door to Clancy’s room, he felt a little smile touch his face. He waited a few more moments and then rose himself. He watched her cross the dark compound to the command center and slip into the prefab building.

He hesitated a moment, looking around. He didn’t see anyone. No alarms went off, yet he decided not to follow her. If he did, she would probably scream or something. Instead, he waited.

It took longer than he had expected. It reminded him of standing on duty in a camp in Uganda, what seemed like a very long time ago. But that night the quiet had been broken by mortar shells, and then rifle fire. Nothing similar would happen here. Thinking about it, however, he had a vivid image of chimps armed with assault weapons and gorillas with rocket launchers, swarming into the compound, bent on exterminating the humans who were so determined to hound them. He shook his head at the impossibility of it.

And yet…

He stiffened as a sentry walked past, oblivious to him standing in the shadows. He checked his watch.

Thirty minutes later, the man walked by again.

When at last he saw Clancy re-emerging from the building, another twenty-nine minutes had passed, according to the radium dial of his watch. As she crossed the compound, he noticed the sentry about to turn the corner. Once he did that, he would spot her for certain.

“Hey there!” he shouted, stepping from the shadow and moving toward the watchman. The man froze, lifting his gun. Malakai put his hands up and took a few steps to the side.

“Hey, now,” he said, his voice lower. “There is no need for that.”

“What are you doing out?”

Malakai walked away from where Clancy had been. The sentry turned to follow him with the weapon. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her freeze, then tiptoe past and into their hut.

“Just looking for a smoke,” he said. “I thought you might have one.”

“I don’t smoke,” the man said, lowering his weapon. “You shouldn’t either. It’s bad for you, and secondhand smoke kills.”

“Ah, I’ve been thinking about quitting, anyhow,” Malakai said. “Perhaps you’ve inspired me.” He turned and went back inside, trying to ignore the itch he got whenever someone with a gun was behind him.

Clancy was sitting in a chair next to the small table in the common room when he entered.

“Thanks,” she whispered, as he approached.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

She nodded. He pulled the other chair up to the little table.

“How did you know?” she asked. “You had a look in your eye,” he said. “I’ve seen it before. I’ve had it in my own eye, for that matter. How did you get in? They didn’t lock it?”

“They did,” she said. “I jammed chewing gum in the hole in the strike plate while they were watching you fail at the computer.” She shrugged and looked up. “These huts don’t have high-tech locks.”

“Well, what did you find?” he asked.

She hesitated. “Something,” she said at last. “Phillips—our boss, the guy running things here. He works for a multinational that owns, among other things, Anvil.”

“Okay,” he said. “That I could have guessed.”

“They also own a company called Gen Sys. The computer is lousy with Gen Sys files. I can’t read any of them because they’re encrypted.”

He waited, figuring she would finish her point, but she didn’t. Then she saw the puzzlement in his eyes.

“Gen Sys was the second place the apes liberated,” she said. “They were the company using apes for testing drugs.”

“Ah,” he said. “I see.”

“I’m not sure I do,” she said, “but it’s out there now.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t easy, but I managed to send a friend of mine an email. I’m pretty sure it won’t be detected unless they go through the whole system looking for it. Anyway, he’s a reporter. I asked him to check it out quietly and get back to me.”

Malakai absorbed that for a moment.

“How will he ‘get back to you’?”

“I guess I’ll have to break back in there,” she said.

He nodded, realizing how badly he had underestimated this person. He had mistaken wonder and idealism for stupidity.

Of course, she might very well have just killed them both.

It took him a long time to get to sleep.

8

Caesar now knew his way into town.

The first night he had climbed high in the trees, searching for the nearest lights that marked human settlements. He saw them off toward where the moon and sun came from. When the moon rose, he and a small group went by its pale light, slowly and quietly, the orangs feeling the way first.

When they reached the fringes of the town and its streetlights, things went more easily. They kept to trees and shadows, which was not so difficult as there were plenty of both. Caesar had known what he was looking for—he had been with Will when he went to where humans found their food, although he usually had been made to wait in the car. But the places were easy to recognize, with lots of big windows and pictures of food. Will had called them “stores.”

A little hunting had found such a place. They discovered a way in through a shaft in the roof, and found bags they filled with fruit, honey, nuts—anything that looked edible. Keling remembered that fruit sometimes came in metal or plastic cans, and Caesar found plenty that had been made cold and hard, but which he knew would eventually warm up.

They had slipped back into the forest, groaning from the weight, but it was worth it to see Maurice and the other orangutans finally eat something, to know they would not starve—at least, not yet.

The next night the shaft was closed with a piece of wood, so they had needed to break a window. And the next they had found men with guns guarding the store, so they had been forced to locate a different source of food. They found another place, though, and while small, it had very good fruit, including a very stinky one that set Maurice to doing a strange, stately dance of happiness before devouring it.

Tonight they tried a third store—one Rocket had scouted the night before. But when they approached it, they found the windows already broken. There were people inside. At first Caesar thought they were waiting for him—that it was a trap. But then he saw that they were taking things out of the store and loading them into their cars. Humans were stealing from humans.

Why? he wondered.

It didn’t matter—this was no place for them now. They would have to find another store.

He was about to leave when cars with flashing lights arrived, and policemen climbed out. The trees around Caesar rustled as his band reacted, remembering the killers on the bridge that had been dressed like this.