Beneath The Planet Of The Apes by Michael Avallone Page B

assistant at her elbow, she was accepting the newest delivery of cage-wagon humans sent from the city proper by her husband Cornelius. Zaius and Ursus, strolling the compound now for a chat, had just come into view when the gorilla driver delivered his wagonload of specimens which included Brent and Nova. The human cargo was as wretched as ever.
    Zira, withholding her shock, approached Brent and Nova very casually. She had not expected to see them again so soon.
    Brent held his ground. There was nothing else he could do.
    Zira stared up at him.
    “Male. Type E cranium. Very unusual.” The chimpanzee at her elbow rapidly made some notes on her pad.
    Zira reached up, tweaked Brent’s ear and gave him a deliberately deadpan wink that only he could see.
    “Weak occipital development. Substandard lobes—” She turned her attention to Nova who was staring at her dumbly. “Female. Type—” She broke off, for now she could see Dr. Zaius and General Ursus walking toward her. The sight disturbed her. Zaius was saying, “. . . so be it. You know that my scruples were dictated by caution—not by cowardice. When the day comes, I shall ride with you.” Ursus was grunting a reply, but his piggish eyes were roving over Brent and Nova with undue interest. Zira quickened her routine survey, anxious to be gone. The guards were impatient too.
    “It’s been a long time since we’ve been able to study specimens of such extraordinary clinical interest,” Zira said too loudly. “Take them inside . . .”
    “You can’t have them,” General Ursus suddenly spoke up behind her. Zira whirled.
    General Ursus’ ugly face was wreathed in what passed for a smile. A horsewhip was coiled in his huge right paw.
    “They’ve been marked,” he explained quietly, “for target practice.” As he said this, he flicked the whip and it cut cruelly across Nova’s lithe body. Brent flinched but held his silence. General Ursus had already turned away, leading Dr. Zaius off with him. Zira raged inwardly. The gorilla driver, now that his leader had spoken, needed no second urging; he was already pushing Brent and the girl toward his cage-wagon. The vehicle was empty now, its desperate occupants removed for further research. The door at the rear hung open. Zira helped the driver to force Brent and Nova into the van. Brent moved like a dead man. This last had been too much for him. All the fight had gone out of him. He was dead-tired and dead-hopeless. As the driver went about his paces, Zira locked the cage door. Brent sat down on the floor of the wagon, his head in his hands. Nova began to weep. Softly and terribly. Brent was suddenly galvanized. He jumped to his feet, shaking the bars of the cage, his face furious. The cords in his neck stood out with the effort. Nova, with uncomprehending obedience, stopped crying and followed suit. Together they made a pitiful sight. Humans rattling the bars of their cage.
    Brent wildly pointed to the lock of the cage door.
    Zira nodded as the driver returned to the front seat of his wagon. Her cute chimpanzee face was almost kindly.
    “These poor animals,” she said so that the driver could hear her. “They think blind force is the answer to everything.”
    The driver grunted, and reached for his whip.
    “Wait—I’ll double-lock the door,” Zira said.
    Under cover of the clatter of the wagon rolling once more into motion, Zira took out her key and unlocked the door of the cage, but without opening it. Brent stared at her.
    “Good luck,” she whispered.
    He kept on staring at her, dumbly, long after the driver’s whip had spurred the horses into a steady trot, long after her simian figure in its outlandish skirt and jacket was a solitary speck in the dust of the roadway. The motionless figure of Zira was a sight that Brent would always remember. For whatever was left of his life.
    He could not account for the lump of something in his throat, nor for the fact that his eyes had filled with