“It is the only thing that does!” Hasslein smacked the arm of his chair with his open palm. “The only thing!” He looked up, realized the others were staring at him. “Please excuse me.”

“You spoke of war,” a new voice said.

“Senator Yancey,” Lewis said. “Armed Forces Committee. Senator, Cornelius and Zira.”

“Yes. You spoke of war. War between whom?” Yancey insisted.

Cornelius sighed. “Between our army—all gorillas—between the gorillas and whoever lives—uh, lived—will live? I have trouble with the tenses. Between the army and the inhabitants of the tunnels and caves of the territory next to our.”

“And you don’t know who they were?” Yancey insisted.

“No, sir.”

“Who won that war?” Yancey asked.

Zira interrupted before Cornelius could answer. “How the devil would we know? Chimpanzees are pacifists. We stayed at home. May I ask you something? Would you care to be here, chained, thirsty, under these very hot lights, watching us drink water while you had none?”

“Good heavens!” Dr. Hartley exclaimed. He gestured, and two attendants took a pitcher of water and glasses to the chimpanzees. They drank thirstily. Lewis and Stephanie were not offered water, and Lewis winked at Stevie. She winked back.

“So you don’t know who won the war,” Yancey insisted. “Surely you must have heard reports—”

“No, sir,” Cornelius said. “We assisted Dr. Milo in his work to repair the spacecraft. Then we left. Somehow we ended here. Now.”

“Can you explain that?” Hasslein asked eagerly.

“No, sir. Dr. Milo had a theory, perhaps, but he never explained it to us. I know that before he died that night he was scribbling complex mathematics on the floor of our cage—”

“Where are those equations?” Hasslein demanded. “Dr. Dixon, were they preserved?”

“No sir.”

Hasslein sank into his seat, dejected. Then, angrily, he said “Why not?”

“Because,” Zira answered, “we were never given writing materials. Dr. Milo was using his finger and water to write on the cement floor. Naturally the writing wouldn’t last—”

“Oh,” Hasslein said. He brooded.

“About the spacecraft,” Senator Yancey said. “It landed in your country. By the sea, you said. What happened to the crew? To Colonel Taylor and his men?”

Zira and Cornelius looked at each other, then back to Yancey. “I don’t know,” Cornelius said. “The spacecraft was empty when we first saw it.”

“And did you know Colonel Taylor?” Yancey insisted. “Did you ever meet him?”

The apes exchanged glances again. “No,” Cornelius said evenly. “Is he a soldier?”

“He was an officer of the United States Air Force, an astronaut, and a hero,” Yancey said. “And one of the purposes of this Commission is to find out what happened to him.”

“We don’t know,” Zira said. She looked up helplessly. “We are peaceful creatures. I am a psychiatrist, and my husband an archeological historian. We are very tired, and we have been cooperative, but can’t you now take these chains off and let us rest? Please?”

There was an instant of silence; then the hall burst into applause. Even Hartley’s gavel couldn’t silence it until Lewis and Stevie, smiling, had unlocked the collars and thrown the chains to the floor.

NINE

“You were marvelous!” Stevie said. She threw her arms around Zira. Both laughed as they danced around the hospital wing of the zoo. Stevie halted suddenly and looked around. “I’m sorry you’re still here . . .”

“It’s as good a place as any,” Cornelius said. “Thank you for the furniture.” He indicated the chairs and tables which had been placed in the cage. There was even a small stove in one corner. The door to the next cage, where the gorilla had been, was now open, and bedroom furniture had been placed inside. Cornelius strolled to the corner and turned on the television. “Is this the right way to work this?” he asked.

“Yes.” Lewis watched, frowning, as the news programs came on. A local announcer was saying, “Doctor Victor Hasslein had no immediate comment for this reporter, but we understand he will be a special guest on the Big News, in just half an hour. Stay tuned for the Big News. Now—late-breaking sports. The Los Angeles Rams have—”

“That’s how to turn it off, too,” Cornelius said. “But I do want to watch this Doctor Hasslein.”

“We all do,” Lewis said. He stood at the cage door. “Well. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

“Eh?” Cornelius said.

“Come in, come in,” Zira insisted. “We don’t mean to be impolite—but after all, it’s your zoo. We don’t really think of this cage as our home, Lewis. I’m sorry . . .”

“Very natural, of course,” Lewis said. He took a seat without being asked; he was tired, and they’d probably never get around to that.

“Have a seat,” Cornelius said. Lewis grinned at him and they both laughed.

“They were just marvelous,” Stephanie said again. “Weren’t they, Lew?”

“Sure, darling.” Dixon’s voice took on a worried edge. “Fabulous. But there was a moment there when . . .”

“Yes,” Zira said.

“Now, let’s not think about our difficulties,” Cornelius said. “I’ve just learned about coffee, and I want some. I watched Stevie make it, and I think I know how.” He went to the stove and began rattling the percolator.

“He knows,” Zira said. “You’re not helping, Cornelius. He knows.”

“My dear,” Cornelius said. “Are you sure we should go into this now?”

“Quite sure,” Zira said. “But only to these humans. To—to our physicians. In confidence. This is in confidence, Dr. Dixon?”

“Yes,” Lewis said. He was fairly positive of it; no one would bug the hospital section of the zoo, certainly not without Haskins being aware of it, and Haskins had said nothing. “In confidence.”

“Why can’t you be honest with everyone?” Stevie asked. “With the Commission?”

Cornelius sighed deeply. “I wish we could. I truly do. But—I’m afraid to talk even to you.”

“But we will,” Zira said. “Sit down, Stevie. Cornelius, stop messing with that pot and come join us. We have to talk to them while we’ve got the chance.”

“I suppose.” Cornelius came over to the group—two chimpanzees on one couch, facing two humans on another. All four wore white laboratory coats now. Lewis had thought it a good joke on the zoo procedure. Haskins would be scandalized.

“But—why not with the Commission?” Stevie asked again.

“Because,” Zira said, “truth can often harm the innocent. And I have a very special reason for wanting to survive. At least for a little while. This does have to be secret, Doctors.”

“Go ahead,” Lewis said.

“No. You tell them, Cornelius.”

“We did know Colonel Taylor,” Cornelius began. "It is true that the first time we saw the ship, it was empty, but we had seen the crew before that. We came to love Colonel Taylor very much.”

“But,” Stevie protested, “what possible harm could come from telling the Commission that? Why—”

“Shh,” Lewis said. He gently put a finger over her lips. "Please go on, Professor Cornelius.”

“Our feelings, our regard for Colonel Taylor was unusual,” Cornelius said. “In our time, apes do not—did not—love human beings. They hunted them for sport, as you might hunt animals. They did not always kill them quickly, either.”

“Good Lord!” Lewis exclaimed. “Chimpanzees too?”

Zira nodded. “We don’t hunt, but we used humans, alive and dead, for experimental animals. Anatomical studies. Medical reactions, drug tests, anything of that sort. Dissection to train medical students.”

“Ugh.” Stevie swallowed hard. “That’s—that’s horrible.”

“Yes,” Lewis nodded. “But we do the same with animals right now. As a scientist I can understand, if humans in their time are only dumb animals, unable to speak or reason . . .”