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.
“Quiet!” he whispered.
The people in the store tried to get away from the police, but a few fought them. The policemen hit them with sticks. One pulled his gun.
Caesar knew it was time to leave, while the humans were occupied with hurting each other.
He felt in his bones that something had changed. Something was different. He had never seen humans turn on each other in this way, and it sent weird chills throughhim. It might be that this was their last night foraging in this area. But if not here, then where? They couldn’t go back across the bridge. It was too dangerous. Were there towns toward sundown? And if so, were humans turning on each other there, as well?
A part of him hoped so. If they fought themselves, they might forget about him and his apes.
When they reached the last road before the woods, Caesar saw trucks, and more of the men who had been chasing them.
They know
, he realized.
They’re trying to catch us coming back
.
It took them all night to go around, and they returned empty-handed. It was not a good night.
Maurice approached him, and Caesar waved to him.
Sorry
, he signed.
No fruit tonight
.
It never was the long solution
, the orangutan said.
Is there a long solution?
Caesar asked.
The wild apes have found some things we can eat.
Not enough
, Caesar said.
They will find more
, Maurice assured him. He tilted his head.
Fruit grows somewhere
, he said.
We will find it
.
I saw humans fight each other over food
, Caesar said.
What can it mean?
That there is not enough food for them, either
, Maurice replied.
How can that be? There was always food in the city
.
Maurice shrugged.
If there isn’t enough food for humans, where will
we
get it?
Caesar wondered.
You will find a way
, Maurice said, rolling slowly under the branch.
Because you are Caesar.
* * *
The man’s name is Tommy and he lives in a place with many rooms. In one of these rooms there are two cages, and he puts Koba in one of them. The cage is taller than the one that moved, but it is so narrow that he can’t sit or get down on all fours—he has to stand, which hurts after a while. He clings to the cage wall to relieve the cramping, but he can’t do that for long either. His mother is not there, and there are no toys in it at all. His only toy is his stuffed kitten, and he clings to it. It still smells like Mother.
There is another cage next to his, with something in it.
“Milo,” Tommy says, “Meet your protégé, Koba.”
Milo looks at Koba, then points at the stuffed animal.
Kitten
, he signs.
Kitten
, Koba signs back, relieved that Milo is not another big black caterpillar.
Milo doesn’t say a lot, though. When Koba gets some food, Milo wants some. When Koba asks Milo to tickle him, he doesn’t. Still, it is nice to have someone near.
The next day, Tommy starts teaching him.
Tommy shows Koba a stick. It looks funny, and has a sort of coil on one end of it. He touches Koba with it, and Koba screams as horrible pain shoots through his arm and makes his whole body shake.
“This is called a prod,” Tommy tells him. “When I ask you to do something and you don’t do it right, I will hurt you with it like I just did.”
He sits down in front of Koba.
“Koba,” he says. “I want you to smile.”
He makes a sign by putting one finger from each hand under his lips and then pulls them upward in a curve toward his ears. At the same time he pulls his lips back from his teeth and draws the corners of his mouth up. It is the expression Koba’s mother made when she was terrifiedof something, and Koba makes it, too, when he is scared.
Tommy wants him to do that?
Tommy hits him with the pain stick. Koba jerks back in
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.
“Quiet!” he whispered.
The people in the store tried to get away from the police, but a few fought them. The policemen hit them with sticks. One pulled his gun.
Caesar knew it was time to leave, while the humans were occupied with hurting each other.
He felt in his bones that something had changed. Something was different. He had never seen humans turn on each other in this way, and it sent weird chills throughhim. It might be that this was their last night foraging in this area. But if not here, then where? They couldn’t go back across the bridge. It was too dangerous. Were there towns toward sundown? And if so, were humans turning on each other there, as well?
A part of him hoped so. If they fought themselves, they might forget about him and his apes.
When they reached the last road before the woods, Caesar saw trucks, and more of the men who had been chasing them.
They know
, he realized.
They’re trying to catch us coming back
.
It took them all night to go around, and they returned empty-handed. It was not a good night.
Maurice approached him, and Caesar waved to him.
Sorry
, he signed.
No fruit tonight
.
It never was the long solution
, the orangutan said.
Is there a long solution?
Caesar asked.
The wild apes have found some things we can eat.
Not enough
, Caesar said.
They will find more
, Maurice assured him. He tilted his head.
Fruit grows somewhere
, he said.
We will find it
.
I saw humans fight each other over food
, Caesar said.
What can it mean?
That there is not enough food for them, either
, Maurice replied.
How can that be? There was always food in the city
.
Maurice shrugged.
If there isn’t enough food for humans, where will
we
get it?
Caesar wondered.
You will find a way
, Maurice said, rolling slowly under the branch.
Because you are Caesar.
* * *
The man’s name is Tommy and he lives in a place with many rooms. In one of these rooms there are two cages, and he puts Koba in one of them. The cage is taller than the one that moved, but it is so narrow that he can’t sit or get down on all fours—he has to stand, which hurts after a while. He clings to the cage wall to relieve the cramping, but he can’t do that for long either. His mother is not there, and there are no toys in it at all. His only toy is his stuffed kitten, and he clings to it. It still smells like Mother.
There is another cage next to his, with something in it.
“Milo,” Tommy says, “Meet your protégé, Koba.”
Milo looks at Koba, then points at the stuffed animal.
Kitten
, he signs.
Kitten
, Koba signs back, relieved that Milo is not another big black caterpillar.
Milo doesn’t say a lot, though. When Koba gets some food, Milo wants some. When Koba asks Milo to tickle him, he doesn’t. Still, it is nice to have someone near.
The next day, Tommy starts teaching him.
Tommy shows Koba a stick. It looks funny, and has a sort of coil on one end of it. He touches Koba with it, and Koba screams as horrible pain shoots through his arm and makes his whole body shake.
“This is called a prod,” Tommy tells him. “When I ask you to do something and you don’t do it right, I will hurt you with it like I just did.”
He sits down in front of Koba.
“Koba,” he says. “I want you to smile.”
He makes a sign by putting one finger from each hand under his lips and then pulls them upward in a curve toward his ears. At the same time he pulls his lips back from his teeth and draws the corners of his mouth up. It is the expression Koba’s mother made when she was terrifiedof something, and Koba makes it, too, when he is scared.
Tommy wants him to do that?
Tommy hits him with the pain stick. Koba jerks back in
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