Congressman Boyd cleared his throat loudly.
“Yes, Mister Boyd?” Chairman Hartley said.
“Mister Chairman, I want that report to show that this finding was not unanimous. Given the history—history which her husband Cornelius undoubtedly knew—the apes had no right to consider humans in the same category as beasts, and furthermore, I submit, they did not so consider them. They saw them as former masters, and took revenge on them when and where possible—”
“Excuse me, Congressman," Hartley interrupted. “You will be allowed to present the minority report—”
There were more murmurs around the table.
“—your minority report, I should say, at a later time. All of you who wish to present minority reports will be given the opportunity. The majority report notes that this finding is not unanimous.”
He continued reading. “The Commission does find, by majority vote, that either Zira has committed no crime which deserves prosecution; or that, being an ape, she cannot be tried by the standards imposed by the International Law of War Crime; or that this Commission has no jurisdiction over Zira, without regard to the truth or falsity of the first two propositions; and the Commission is therefore agreed that it does not recommend any prosecution of the chimpanzee Zira. Is this a fair statement, Commissioners?”
There were more murmured assents. Someone said, “Get on with it. It’s nearly dinner time.”
“I will attempt to do so,” Hartley said. He lifted his paper again and read, “This Commission finds that although these apes do not themselves represent a threat to the human race, their progeny, by interbreeding with common apes, may well do so; that unless these progeny interbreed with common apes, the future described by Cornelius and Zira is so improbable as to be to all purposes impossible; and that, therefore, without considerations of justice, but purely in the interests of expediency and the physical salvation of the human race, this Commission recommends to the President of the United States that the birth of the female ape’s unborn child be prevented, and that the two adult apes be sterilized permanently by painless means; that after sterilization is performed, they may be considered wards of the United States and employed in such wise as their talents would best indicate, with due regard to their own stated desires.”
“It’s still murder,” the Cardinal muttered. “Abortion is always murder. Why not let the little ape be born and sterilize it if they’re so anxious—it’s the Slaughter of the Innocents again, and no good can come from it.”
“We have heard your views before,” Hasslein said. “I appreciate your concern, Your Eminence. It is not your responsibility. Let it be on my head.”
“On your head and on your children, is that it, Dr. Hasslein? Fortunately, God won’t permit you to pass that guilt on to your children.”
“If you are quite finished,” Chairman Hartley said. He read again. “These findings being adopted by this Commission and presented to the President of the United States, and having been accepted by the president, Dr. Victor Hasslein by Executive Order is given authority to carry out the recommendations of this Commission, and is hereby ordered to do so immediately.” Hartley looked at the assembled group. “I think there is nothing else, is there? No?” He raised his gavel. “I hereby declare this Commission dissolved.” The gavel fell again, and the sound was like the crack of doom to Lewis Dixon.
Lewis parked in the driveway outside Stephanie’s Glendale home. She came outside to meet him, and he pulled her to him, kissed her desperately.
“Hey,” she said finally. “What’s wrong?”
“Does it show?”
“Yes. That wasn’t just for me, Lew—what is it?”
He told her. All of it. “At least they’ll be allowed to live, but—it’s horrible, Stevie.”
“Do they know yet?”
“No,” Lewis said. “But Hasslein will tell them tomorrow. He’ll have the operation done tomorrow, too. Stevie, he’s terrified of those chimpanzees. He really sees them as the end of the human race.”
She shuddered in his arms. “Lew—shouldn’t we tell them? Shouldn’t someone, a friend, be with them when they find out? We can’t just wait until Hasslein comes in and—does it.”
“Yeah. I’d thought the same thing. That’s why I came here, Stevie. I can’t face them alone. Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
“Let’s go.”
“But, Lewis, I can’t now. Not for an hour. I’ve got my sister’s children here! I can’t leave them alone . . .”
“Get a sitter,” Lewis growled. “You know Hasslein. He’s likely to go down there tonight.”
“It will take a few minutes to get a sitter,” Stevie said. “Lewis, if it’s that urgent, you better drive down right now. I’ll join you as soon as I can. I won’t be long, not more than half an hour behind you.”
“But that half hour could be crucial. All right darling. Hurry. And—I love you.”
“I’m glad.” She smiled, but there was pain in her eyes as well, and she stood watching him drive away for nearly half a minute before running inside to the telephone. Her nieces couldn’t understand why she was crying.
EIGHTEEN
“Here’s your wife back, sir,” Tommy Billings said. He wheeled Zira into the suite she had shared with Cornelius. “I know you’ve been worried about her, sir. Here she is, safe and sound.” The orderly helped Zira to her feet, then left them alone.
“Three days,” Cornelius said. “I’ve been nearly out of my mind!”
“Didn’t they tell you I was all right?” Zira asked.
“Of course they said so,” he answered. “But after what they did I wouldn’t believe anything they said. Savages! Barbarians! Jabbing needles into a pregnant woman! Even gorillas wouldn’t think of that.”
“Yes, dear.” She moved closer to him. “Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“O Lord, yes.” He took her in his arms, then led her to a chair. “You shouldn’t be standing. Sorry the furniture’s so—” he shrugged, “functional.” He gestured at the plain room with its government-issued equipment.
“It’s all right,” Zira said. She took a seat and watched as Cornelius paced around the room.
“Savages,” Cornelius repeated.
“I’ve done as much to humans as they did to me,” Zira said. “And more. Much worse things.” She shuddered. “If we’d only known—you must remember, Colonel Taylor thought we were savages. At first.”
Cornelius looked frantically around the room. “They’re probably listening to us,” he said.
“So what? They know about Taylor.”
“They made you tell about him, too?”
“They made me tell about everything, Cornelius. We no longer have anything to hide.”
“Brutes!”
“And may I tell you something? I’m glad, Cornelius. I’m glad because now there’s nothing to lie about. I hated that. We can’t live with lies.”
“If we live at all,” Cornelius muttered. “They may not let us live, you know.”
“That’s nonsense.” She rubbed her swollen belly. “It is nonsense, isn’t it? They aren’t really savages . . .”