All the shutters were closed, and when he let himself in, he had to pause because of the darkness inside. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he became aware of Lisa, Caesar, and Doctor, clustered around Cornelius’ bed. He moved to them and quietly touched Caesar’s shoulder.

Caesar looked up, puzzled. It took him a moment to recognize Virgil, a moment longer to understand the urgency of his expression. He followed Virgil into the main room.

Virgil spoke quietly and intensely. “Caesar, forgive me . . . but you have to come.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aldo has seized power.”

Caesar shook him away. The whole idea seemed somehow trivial. “Let him. There is no power to seize. The council is the power.” He started to turn back toward his son. “We can settle it later.”

Virgil grabbed Caesar’s arm. “Caesar! He’s passing out guns! And he’s ordered all humans to be imprisoned. The gorillas are rounding them up and driving them into the horse corral.”

Caesar frowned. “What about MacDonald?”

“He was dragged from the council room by Aldo’s gorillas.”

Caesar shook his head slowly, unable to comprehend. “But Virgil, I can’t leave my son. He needs me.”

Virgil was insistent. “Every ape and human in Ape City needs you—now!”

“But . . .” Caesar raised his hands helplessly. The two apes stared at each other.

A thin voice broke the impasse. From the other room, Cornelius called weakly, “Father . . .”

Caesar hurried back to his son and leaned over him.

Cornelius spoke haltingly. “They . . . hurt . . . me.”

Caesar wasn’t listening to the words, though. He touched Cornelius’ face gently. “Just relax, son.” He smiled at the tiny spark of life that was his child, happy that it was still glowing, however faintly.

“They . . . want . . . to . . . hurt you.”

Abruptly, the words registered. Cornelius was telling them that his injury was not accidental. Caesar stiffened angrily. “What? Who? Who hurt you? Humans?”

Cornelius’ eyes closed, then opened again. He answered very weakly, “No.”

“Then who?”

There was a long silence then, broken at last by a change in Cornelius’ labored breathing. Doctor caught her breath. “Oh, no!” She knelt closer, but there was nothing she could do. Even Caesar recognized that now.

Cornelius suddenly opened his eyes again. His mind flickered back, to a word he had heard. “Shall I be . . . malformed?” he asked.

Caesar said reassuringly, “No, my son. One day you’ll be as tall as a king.”

Cornelius smiled at the thought. The smile faded slowly on his face. His soft simian eyes closed again slowly. And didn’t reopen.

Caesar touched the little body hesitantly. “Cornelius?”

But Cornelius wasn’t there. There was nobody there at all. Just a small, broken body.

Caesar gave way to Doctor. The human woman listened for a heartbeat for a moment, then turned to Caesar and shook her head. Lisa wailed and threw herself across the bed, clutching hopelessly at Cornelius’ tiny form.

Caesar’s face twisted slowly from grief into rage. He stood up, saying, “They hurt my son. They killed him!”

Lisa continued sobbing on the bed. Caesar didn’t even hear her. He rushed from the room angrily. He was totally distracted; he looked furiously from side to side. He rushed from the house in confusion. Virgil followed him, puffing to keep up.

Caesar started heading for the horse corrals. “He said . . . they hurt him. Who?” he muttered. “Who would hurt him?”

Virgil looked at the tall chimpanzee very seriously, almost afraid to speak. “Look around you, Caesar. You’ll have your answer.”

Caesar whirled on him, shook him fiercely. “Don’t play word games with me, Virgil. What do you know?”

Virgil, shocked by Caesar’s violence, shook his head. He pointed at something behind Caesar’s back. “That. That’s what I know.”

Caesar released the paunchy little orangutan, turned and looked. Looked at the gorilla version of a concentration camp. There was a large corral. There were prisoners. There were guards. The corral had been built for horses, but the prisoners were shocked and ashen-faced humans. Many were hurt. Some were lying on the ground, moaning. One or two were completely covered by blankets, still forms on the dirt.

The guards were gorillas, massive and black in their gleaming uniforms. Like elite troops, they strutted back and forth, automatic weapons cradled proudly in their arms. Others stood firmly at the gate, booted legs spread wide in a stance of immovability.

Behind them humans stood against the wire, looking out hopelessly. A small child peering out at a small chimp peering in. A cluster of men with long, matted hair, agricultural workers, squatting and smoking and looking at the gorillas with subdued hatred and resentment. MacDonald, Teacher, and Jake, standing close against the wire, scanning the passing apes.

“Caesar! Caesar!” MacDonald shouted suddenly, recognizing the distant chimp.

Caesar heard his name called. He started forward, toward the corral. He was horrified at this outrage. And there was Aldo, parading with his soldiers! Caesar’s eyes narrowed, his lips curled back, baring his teeth. He strode angrily.

A loud, shattering explosion nearly knocked him to the ground. He caught himself and whirled to see a pillar of fire and smoke rising from the ridge behind the grove. A towering black and brown cloud that cast its shadow across the whole city. Apes were frozen in their tracks, staring at it horrified.

Caesar closed his mouth and turned to Aldo and the rest of the gorillas.

“All right, you have your guns! Now let’s see what you can do with them!”

Aldo turned from staring at the explosion and saw Caesar for the first time. “Guns, yes! We’ll kill the humans! All the humans!” He barked at his troops to follow him. Quickly, he mounted his horse, wheeled it about and began riding down the main street toward the distant sound of firing. The noise came like a sporadic popping.

The rest of the gorillas shouted in triumph and waved their rifles. “We go to kill humans!” they cried, and galloped after their leader.

The battle had begun.

EIGHT

Another explosion shattered the afternoon, hurling rocks and chunks of dirt into the air. It was still far off, on the ridge of the gorilla outpost, but the city apes scattered in fright and confusion.

Caesar was already shouting orders, even while the thunder of the blast was still echoing through the valley. “Pile those wagons into a roadblock! Bring them down here!”

Chimpanzees and orangutans began scurrying to drag wagons and carts out to block the main road. Caesar and Virgil grabbed one of the nearest wagons, a massive heavy vehicle, and began dragging it toward the end of the street, toward the sounds of fighting.

The humans in the corral were forgotten. They pressed against the fence, watching the battle unfold before them.

Up on the ridge, at the gorilla outpost, a frenzied gorilla was trying to get his machine gun working. He fumbled with thick fingers, trying to unjam the frustrating gun, burning his fur and his skin as he did so. A second gorilla, still holding the belt he had been feeding into the gun, watched impatiently. Around them whizzed the bullets of the other gorillas. The rifles popped loudly.

Suddenly the mechanism was clear; the gun was unjammed. The gorilla shouted happily and jumped down behind the gun again, then fell to the ground abruptly beside the gun, his eyes glazed and startled.

Another gorilla seized the handles of the gun and, stepping over the body of his comrade, swung it around to face down the slope. He began firing in short, steady bursts.

Behind him other gorillas were firing their guns. Their automatic rifles rattled with staccato precision. But the gorillas were all badly shaken. They seemed ready to bolt.