bodyguard said.
Zira opened her eyes. “Shock, my foot. I’m pregnant.”
“Good Heavens,” Hasslein said. “And we’ve worn you out with all this walking and looking. Let’s get you home.”
“Dr. Dixon will be here soon,” Victor Hasslein said. “Are you sure you are all right? The ride back home didn’t tire you too much?”
“I’m fine. You can go now, Dr. Hasslein. Thank you.”
“Oh, no, Zira,” Hasslein said. “I shan’t leave you until Cornelius or Dr. Dixon get here. No, no, I insist. Is there anything I can get you?”
She leaned back on the couch and kicked off her shoes, sighing in relaxation. “Well, I have a strange craving—”
“That’s only natural under the circumstances. What can I get you?”
“Grape Juice Plus.”
“What? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“It’s in the refrigerator,” Zira said. “Re-frig-er-a-tor. I said it right, didn’t I? We call it an icebox.”
“Refrigerator. Certainly. I’ll get it.” Hasslein went to the suite kitchenette. There were three bottles of California champagne in the refrigerator, and he smiled softly to himself. He looked through the cupboards until he found a large wine goblet, then opened the champagne and filled the glass. He brought the bottle with him into the living room.
“Here you go,” he said. “Grape Juice Plus.” Hasslein winked at Zira.
She winked back. “But I shouldn’t drink this much . . .”
“Oh, come now,” Hasslein said. “You’re not that far along, are you?”
“Pretty far,” Zira said.
“Well, a little champagne never hurt anyone. How long have you known you were—uh, going to have a child?”
“Since well before the war.” She took a deep drink of the champagne and smacked her lips. “That’s very good. Anyway, I knew since before the war, and that was another reason we wanted to escape. We couldn’t know what would happen.”
Hasslein took out his cigarette case and set it on the table. “Perhaps I shouldn’t smoke—”
“Oh, it doesn’t bother me,” Zira said. “It seems a very silly habit, though.”
“It is. One much easier to take up than to quit, it seems. Thank you.” He lit a cigarette, and left the case on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You say you don’t know against whom the war was fought?”
“Not really,” Zira said. She took another gulp of champagne. Hasslein casually filled her glass again. “Just that there were some—uh, apes, living underground in the next district, and the army decided to fight them.“
Hasslein nodded agreement. “Ordinary citizens often are not asked about such things. Who won your war?”
“It wasn’t our war,” Zira protested, her speech slurring. She gulped more wine. “It was the gorillas’ war. They’re always fighting about something. Chimpanzees are pacifists. We never did see an enemy.”
“Oh.” Hasslein filled her glass again, then took a seat and stretched his feet out in front of him. “Hard day today, wasn’t it?”
“A little,” Zira agreed. They chatted about the museum for a while, as Hasslein continued to keep her glass full.
“Surely you know which side won the war,” Hasslein said finally.
“Neither side won,” Zira said. “The stupid fools. We told them . . .”
Hasslein frowned. “Just what did happen, then?”
“When we were in space . . . we saw the light. A blinding bright white light, it was horrible. The rim of the world seemed to melt! The whole earth must have been destroyed. Dr. Milo thought it had been. Then there was—I don’t know. Then we were here.” She lifted her glass again and drank more wine, spilling several drops on the table and drooling more down her chin.
“I feel very sleepy,” she said. “Magnificently sleepy. I think I shouldn’t drink any more.”
“Probably you’re right,” Hasslein agreed. “Tell me, Zira, what was the date in your time?”
“Thirty-nine . . . fifty-five.”
Hasslein whistled. “That’s a long
Zira opened her eyes. “Shock, my foot. I’m pregnant.”
“Good Heavens,” Hasslein said. “And we’ve worn you out with all this walking and looking. Let’s get you home.”
“Dr. Dixon will be here soon,” Victor Hasslein said. “Are you sure you are all right? The ride back home didn’t tire you too much?”
“I’m fine. You can go now, Dr. Hasslein. Thank you.”
“Oh, no, Zira,” Hasslein said. “I shan’t leave you until Cornelius or Dr. Dixon get here. No, no, I insist. Is there anything I can get you?”
She leaned back on the couch and kicked off her shoes, sighing in relaxation. “Well, I have a strange craving—”
“That’s only natural under the circumstances. What can I get you?”
“Grape Juice Plus.”
“What? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“It’s in the refrigerator,” Zira said. “Re-frig-er-a-tor. I said it right, didn’t I? We call it an icebox.”
“Refrigerator. Certainly. I’ll get it.” Hasslein went to the suite kitchenette. There were three bottles of California champagne in the refrigerator, and he smiled softly to himself. He looked through the cupboards until he found a large wine goblet, then opened the champagne and filled the glass. He brought the bottle with him into the living room.
“Here you go,” he said. “Grape Juice Plus.” Hasslein winked at Zira.
She winked back. “But I shouldn’t drink this much . . .”
“Oh, come now,” Hasslein said. “You’re not that far along, are you?”
“Pretty far,” Zira said.
“Well, a little champagne never hurt anyone. How long have you known you were—uh, going to have a child?”
“Since well before the war.” She took a deep drink of the champagne and smacked her lips. “That’s very good. Anyway, I knew since before the war, and that was another reason we wanted to escape. We couldn’t know what would happen.”
Hasslein took out his cigarette case and set it on the table. “Perhaps I shouldn’t smoke—”
“Oh, it doesn’t bother me,” Zira said. “It seems a very silly habit, though.”
“It is. One much easier to take up than to quit, it seems. Thank you.” He lit a cigarette, and left the case on the coffee table in front of the couch. “You say you don’t know against whom the war was fought?”
“Not really,” Zira said. She took another gulp of champagne. Hasslein casually filled her glass again. “Just that there were some—uh, apes, living underground in the next district, and the army decided to fight them.“
Hasslein nodded agreement. “Ordinary citizens often are not asked about such things. Who won your war?”
“It wasn’t our war,” Zira protested, her speech slurring. She gulped more wine. “It was the gorillas’ war. They’re always fighting about something. Chimpanzees are pacifists. We never did see an enemy.”
“Oh.” Hasslein filled her glass again, then took a seat and stretched his feet out in front of him. “Hard day today, wasn’t it?”
“A little,” Zira agreed. They chatted about the museum for a while, as Hasslein continued to keep her glass full.
“Surely you know which side won the war,” Hasslein said finally.
“Neither side won,” Zira said. “The stupid fools. We told them . . .”
Hasslein frowned. “Just what did happen, then?”
“When we were in space . . . we saw the light. A blinding bright white light, it was horrible. The rim of the world seemed to melt! The whole earth must have been destroyed. Dr. Milo thought it had been. Then there was—I don’t know. Then we were here.” She lifted her glass again and drank more wine, spilling several drops on the table and drooling more down her chin.
“I feel very sleepy,” she said. “Magnificently sleepy. I think I shouldn’t drink any more.”
“Probably you’re right,” Hasslein agreed. “Tell me, Zira, what was the date in your time?”
“Thirty-nine . . . fifty-five.”
Hasslein whistled. “That’s a long
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