But they were eating it all, and fast. Soon enough they would have to move.
Yet he knew deep inside that it was in the tall, tall trees that they belonged.
In the direction of the sunrise there were more people. In the direction the sun went down there was open country and water, and a road that cars still traveled on. Beyond the mountain might be their only choice.
Rocket still seemed excited.
What? Caesar asked.
We found something, Rocket said. I’ll show you.
Caesar gave his assent, and two bands started off together. They went back toward the mountain, to a human trail. There, in the middle of it, were colorful piles of mangos, bananas, durian, mangosteens, avocados, grapes, peaches, and a variety of other foods.
Caesar froze on the branch.
Stop, he hissed.
They did, but most of the chimps were having trouble containing themselves. All of the fruit they had managed to procure had gone to feed the orangs and gorillas, who needed it most. But fruit was good, and it had been a long time since they had eaten any.
Nevertheless, something wasn’t right. Fruit didn’t just appear like this. Someone had put it here. So they would find it.
He studied the scene a little more carefully and noticed a littering of skins and rinds.
Did you go down there? He asked Rocket.
Rocket looked a little embarrassed, and nodded.
So they hadn’t been able to resist after all. But they hadn’t been killed, or even shot at. And, in fact, he didn’t think there were any humans anywhere near. So what were the humans after?
Then he understood. They were hoping he would take the food and bring it back to the troop. They would follow him.
But what made the humans think they could follow them through the trees any better now than earlier?
Suddenly Koba was there beside him.
Caesar let Koba go, he signed and held out his hand.
Caesar hesitated only a moment, then swiped it.
Koba made another half-circle around where the fruit lay. He seemed to be looking for something in the trees. After a moment he pointed. There was something attached to the tree above the fruit. It was stripped green and brown, but looked like a machine. Koba picked up a heavy branch, climbed up behind the thing, and hit it. It made a metallic crunching sound.
The bonobo hit it several more times before he seemed satisfied. Then he gestured for them to all come.
Shows us little, Koba explained.
Caesar remembered, then. Will had had a thing that made moving pictures of him. It looked different from the thing Koba broke, but it made sense. There had been things like this in the sanctuary and at Gen Sys, too, all designed to spy on the apes. The humans could watch them without being here.
But even if they could see them take the fruit, how would they know where they took it?
Good, Koba, he said. Smart.
Koba seemed pleased by the praise, but it also seemed as if he was trying to hide it.
The others started coming down as Caesar once again approached the fruit.
Wait, he commanded. Watch.
Then he began picking through the fruit, not sure what he was looking for. Something strange, something out of place. He sorted through some papayas, then a bunch of bananas—and there, fixed to the stem inside the bunch was a white rectangle about the size and shape of the thing Will used to unlock his car from a distance.
A little machine.
A few more minutes of searching and he found another, stuck into a slit in a durian.
Come, he signed. He pulled the thing from the bananas. Find things like this. Take off of fruit and put here. He laid his down.
It was a lot of fruit. They sorted it by moving it, checking each piece carefully as they did so. They found eight of the white rectangles. Then Caesar had them check it again. Reluctantly, the others obeyed.
Some of the fruit had been placed in net bags. Caesar took one of them and tied the rectangles inside. Then he turned to his band.
Take all you can carry back to the troop. Koba, go with my band. Get every ape that can move fast enough, and tell them to come get the rest. Rocket, stay here and set watch, high and low.
What about you? Rocket signed.
Caesar grinned and held up the bag.
10
“If the rest of you matches your eyes,” David said to the receptionist, “you must be pretty hot.”
He knew it was cheesy but, although it was hard to tell behind the filter mask she was wearing, he thought he got a smile from that. At worst she probably thought he was a harmless dufus—which was better than having her know the truth.
A lot was going on at Gen Sys, and most of it seemed to have to do with repairs. The apes had smashed out a lot of windows, and everything else seemed in a general state of disarray. Maybe for that reason, it hadn’t been that hard to get in the front door. Getting past the lobby, though—that might be a trick.
“What can I do for you, sir?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“Well, it’s not official business,” he said. “But an old buddy of mine works here. I haven’t seen him in years, and I was hoping I could surprise him, take him to lunch.”
She hesitated for moment.
“What’s his name?” she finally asked.
“Will Rodman.”
She blinked. “I’m sorry, sir, Dr. Rodman doesn’t work here anymore. He resigned his position the week before last.”
“Ah, shoot, really?” he said. “Did he get another job?”
“I don’t know, sir,” she replied. “But he did quit just before…” She broke off.
Just before Monkeygate, David finished, silently.
“Anyway, he’s not here,” she said, her eyes cutting down.
“That’s really disappointing,” he said. “I really wanted to surprise him. There was this time in college… Oh, hey! I don’t want to bore you. It’s not your concern. You’ve been nice. Thanks.”
The girl looked around, leaned forward conspiratorially, and beckoned him in. He bent toward her.
“I liked Will,” she said. “He was nice, not like some of the people who work here.”
Her fingers went to work on her computer keyboard.
“I have his home address here,” she said. “Maybe you could ambush him there.”
“I knew you were an angel,” he said. “It’s all in the eyes. What’s that address?”
When he reached the address in Pacific Heights, he found the house with quarantine tape around it. The next house was quarantined, as well. And, for that matter, so were most on the street. All of the homes were upscale, Victorians and the like, and in the distance he could see the bridge. The silence in the neighborhood was eerie. There should have been children playing, dogs barking, cars cruising by, but instead there was just the quiet of a graveyard.
He felt a chill, wondering if everywhere would be like this soon. He wasn’t sure what the latest body count was, but it wasn’t looking good.
After some hesitation, he approached the house and knocked, but there was no answer. He went around back, and got no answer there either, but he found the door unlocked. Figuring the police were too busy with looting and riots, he decided he could risk a little unlawful entry and stepped inside.
“Hello?” he called. “Anyone home?”