
"What! By the wings of Henshaw, I'll have you demoted for letting this happen!" shouted burly General Urko into the field telephone. Turning to his aide-de-camp, Captain Sovak, he exclaimed, "The humanoids---probably that yellow-haired terror they call Blue-Eyes---have killed one of our orderlies in the mountain's south of here!"
Sovak frowned deeply and squirmed uneasily in the seat of the command jeep. Just what we needed, he thought. Something else to disturb Urko. He's been like the devil himself to work with lately!
"But we'll capture those sniveling humanoids yet!" the general growled. "Or my name's not Urko!"
The jeep started up again with a roar and drove off among the hills.21Please respect copyright.PENANAZFSfuW798B
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Morning came slowly to the Land of the Apes, the dawn masked by low-hanging mists and clouds. Dan had the map he had stolen from the gorilla soldiers propped up on a big, almost cubical block of granite a few feet off the dirt road.
A few days before, Dan might have thought how strange nature was that she could produce a piece of stone so large and carved into an almost perfect cube. Now he wondered briefly, if nature had had anything to do with it, or if the cube was instead the remnant of one of man's lost buildings or monuments.
Thin shafts of light filtered down through the trees around the seven castaways, casting faint golden bars across the forest floor, and Dan had to concentrate to make out where this new road was supposed to lead them. His dark hands were braced on either side of the map, holding the edges flat against the breeze, feeling the bone-cold surface of the rock. A penetrating cold passed through his hands, up the length of his arms and into his body.
Through with the map for the moment, and wondering how accurate it might be, Dan gazed down the rutted dirt ribbon of road. The still feeble and partly covered sun gave no warmth of to the world. The mist hung in the lower branches of the trees, and created gray blanks along the road like pieces of the canvas of an unfinished painting. Then, suddenly, a single burning beam of sunlight broke through the mist and the clouds. The column of light revealed the road like some scene out of the Land of Oz, twisting and turning in gentle bends down the sloping mountainside. It ended faraway, among the red-tiled roofs and white marble columns of a city. Ape City!"
Then, as the castaways watched, the mist closed in again, banishing the sun and obscuring the city. Steve crossed his arms, tightened his face with concern.
"We can push on a little farther, maybe a mile or two, but after that, we hole up," he said. "We get any closer and we're asking to be seen. There's bound to be more patrols the closer we get to the city.
Dan crouched near a patch of moss, brushing sweat from his brow. "He's right. There's no cover past the next ridge, just flatland. If a single ape spots us out there, we're toast."
Betty wiped dust from her skirt, scanned the tree line. She leaned against a trunk, her face pale and drawn. "I don't know how much more I can take right now anyway. My legs feel like lead."
Fitzhugh waved a hand dramatically, his face flushed with irritation. "Splendid! A day off in the middle of hostile territory. I'll be sure to send for tea and crumpets," he muttered under his breath.
Trying to stay calm, Valerie's eyes flicked from face to face. "Fitz, please. We all need rest. Steve's being smart. If we move now, we risk everything."
Mark rubbed his chin, then squinted toward the city's direction. "It's not just about rest. We need time to plan. We can't just wander in. If there's a weak point in their perimeter, we'll only find it by watching."
Throughout the long, stifling afternoon, the seven castaways lay hidden in the dense tangle of underbrush and low-hanging limbs, barely daring to shift their weight or swat at the swarming insects that plagued them. At first, the road fifty yards below was quiet, the occasional rattle of wheels or distant hoofbeats drifting lazily through the heat-hazed air. But as the sun climbed, the traffic steadily thickened—wagons creaked, apes barked orders, and the sharp clatter of boots on hard-packed earth reminded them just how close danger truly was.
The group stayed silent, sweating, squinting through leaves, every muscle taut with restraint. Mosquitoes and flies found them easily, and with no room to move or relief to be found, sleep was an impossible luxury. Even Barry, exhausted as he was, only managed brief, restless dozes before being jolted back awake by a buzzing in his ear or a bite on his neck.
By the time the sun began its slow dip toward the horizon, casting the world in slanting gold and long shadows, the tension among them was palpable. One by one, they stirred, stretching aching limbs and exchanging weary glances. Despite the risk ahead, none of them hesitated. Anything—anything at all—was better than another minute hiding in the sweltering, insect-ridden thicket.
So they rose in silence, shouldered their burdens, and crept back toward the road. Even if it meant moving straight toward the lion’s den, they were ready.
"Do you know where the laboratory is from here?" Dan asked, an hour later.
The castaways moved cautiously down the crumbling suburban street, their footsteps muffled against the cracked pavement overtaken by creeping weeds. Shadows cloaked their every movement as they kept to the edges, ducking swiftly behind overgrown hedges, gnarled tree trunks, and rusted mailboxes whenever the glow of approaching headlights pierced the gloom. The few streetlights that still functioned flickered dimly overhead, casting pale yellow halos that they deliberately circled wide around, choosing darker paths through untamed front lawns and long-abandoned driveways.
Steve led the way with practiced stealth, raising a hand now and then to halt the group, listening for the low growl of an engine in the distance or the clomp of boots on pavement. Valerie clutched Barry’s hand tightly, her eyes darting nervously from shadow to shadow. Fitzhugh, despite his protests earlier, moved with surprising silence, lips pursed and sweat beading on his brow. Every corner turned, every garden gate stepped over, brought them closer to the city—and deeper into enemy territory. "Not really," he said.
Fitzhugh threw up his hands in frustration, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Oh, brilliant plan, Captain! Just grand! And how, may I ask, do you expect to stumble across the secret little lab of those two talking chimps? Got a map tucked in your boot, or are you following the scent of bananas?"
"Keep your voice down, Fitz," said Steve, stopping the group for a moment. "I didn't say I didn't know where the lab is. I said I wasn't sure where it is from here. I've never been on this street before. What we have to do is find the central square. That's where they took me in the cage, and once there I can find my way to the lab. I'd guess the square is somewhere near the city center." Steve had a scorn in his voice. "If it isn't, I'll just have to leave it to you, oh mighty Fitzhugh-who-knows-everything."
Fitzhugh merely shook his head at that, and the castaways continued their penetration of the city.
They finally came to a large park, where they were able to move a bit more openly and therefore more quickly. The park seemed to be completely deserted, although there were paper wrappers and fruit peels scattered around on the grass, indicating that the park was used during the day.
A short distance into the park they came to the edge of a small lake or reservoir. Reflecting on the water in long, sparkling shafts were the lights of buildings of the central square, directly across the lake from there. Steve could see the tall Arch of Triumph.
"Well, that's where we're headed," Steve said.
"What's that over there?" Valerie asked, diverting Steve's gaze from the massive buildings across the lake.
"Where?" Steve asked, turning to see Val pointing down toward the near edge of the water.
"There," she said, "but those two tall posts."
As the edge of the lake became clearer to Steve, he made out what appeared to be a small building and a jetty sticking a few feet out of the water. "Maybe there's a boat," he suggested.
"Over there---that's a pier!" Mark Wilson observed, and moved off down the slope toward the water, the group following along behind. Steve's eyes scanned their surroundings and watched for any sign of life.
"We're all in luck!" Mark called back to them. "There's a rowboat. That'll save us quite a walk around the lake."
The group moved in near silence, each step deliberate as they approached the small boat moored beneath the shadows of overhanging branches. Their hands worked swiftly but gently to untie the lines, careful not to let the knots slap against the wooden hull. As they pushed off, the boat rocked slightly, then glided away from the shore. They dipped the oars into the water with practiced rhythm, barely a splash sounding in the stillness. Every creak of wood or drip of water was met with a brief pause, then resumed with even greater care. Slowly, they rowed toward a dark, arched opening on the far side of the lake, where the narrow creek that fed it disappeared between two towering marble buildings, their pale forms ghostly in the faint moonlight.
The creek, when they reached it, proved to be of the man-made--or ape-made---type rather than natural. Instead of sloping earthen banks, concrete steps led down to the waterline. And just past the mouth of the creek a massive stone bridge arched across the waterway---a bridge that almost proved to be a trap for the seven castaways.
Dan was directing the boat toward the steps just past the bridge, but as they drifted under it, luckily hidden in its shadow, they were all started by the sound of boots pounding on pavement. Many boots."
"A patrol," Valerie whispered urgently.
"Looking for us, probably," said Dan.
Dan angled the boat toward the right bank directly under the bridge, easing it against the concrete gently, and spotted a rectangle of darkness even blacker than the shadows.
"Quick, in here!" Steve exclaimed.
"Here" proved to be a storm drain, an entrance to the underground sewer passages crisscrossing under Ape City. A highway for the castaways, if they could figure out which direction led to the laboratory.
Steve began following the semi-circular wall with his hands. He came to an opening, bridged it, then reached another opening, then a third and a fourth. "Four choices," he whispered to Dan.
Fitzhugh narrowed his eyes and muttered with a curl of sarcasm, "Well, Captain Burton, do you finally have an idea where this legendary lab might be—or are we just sightseeing?"
Steve turned sharply, fixing Fitzhugh with a glare. "I think it’s off to the left," he shot back. "That building we passed before we went under the bridge—I think I recognized it. But I was seeing the back of it this time, not the front like before. So unless you’ve got a better idea, we follow my guess." His voice was tight, frustrated, but still focused.
Dan glanced down the tunnel on the left, his eyes scanning the darkened path. "Alright," he said, his voice calm but with a sharp edge of determination. "Let’s try it your way, Steve. We go far enough to come up on the other side of those buildings. Get a good look, make sure we aren’t walking into something we can’t handle."
Fitzhugh raised an eyebrow, voice laced with doubt. "That’s if their damn sewer system even has any openings for us to climb up through," he pointed out.
:"They've got to have some kind of openings," Betty said. "Otherwise, why have a sewer?"
Fitzhugh let out a dry laugh, the sound echoing a little too loudly in the tunnel. "Did it ever occur to you, Valerie—or any of you, for that matter—that the only openings might be through their toilets?" he asked, half amused, half exasperated. "Because that’s the kind of day I’m starting to think we’re having. Sneaking up through an ape's bathroom while he’s brushing his teeth." He shook his head, muttering, "Real subtle."
Ignoring Fitzhugh's inappropriate remark, Steve led the way into the left-hand tunnel, feeling his way with fingers on the wall and one hand stretched out in front of him. He was counting paces, trying to keep track of how far they had come, and when he reached 203 his left hand, the one which had been feeling along the wall, suddenly contacted a damp, cold piece of metal. He stopped suddenly and Dan stumbled into him, knocking everyone else, unfortunately, into the murky, evil-smelling water.
"What did you stop for?" Dan groaned, climbing to his feet and trying to shake some of the muck from his hands.
"There's something here," said Steve. "A ladder, I think."
"Going up, we hope," quipped Mark.
"No," Steve replied. "Sideways."
Steve took a firm grip on the sidebars of the ladder and started to climb. Several times his thin boots, tough, but designed for the dry interiors of suborbital transports, slipped on the slime-covered rungs of the ladder, but he managed to reach the top without actually falling. There he found a heavy iron cover. I hope it blocks a sewer access in the street, he thought.
Steve’s voice came low, strained, almost a whisper, carrying through the tunnel. "Hey, down here," he called, the words laced with frustration. "I need help—can’t get this thing open." The sound of metal scraping echoed as he strained against the heavy iron cover, but it barely budged. His voice was tight with effort as he added, "This thing’s damn heavy. I can’t shift it on my own." He grunted, the effort clearly starting to wear on him. "Need another pair of hands—now."
Fitzhugh grumbled under his breath as he stepped forward, his reluctance written all over his face. With a sharp sigh, he swung himself off to one side of the ladder, his foot wrapping instinctively around one of the rungs for balance. His free hand grasped the upright of the ladder, fingers tightening around the cold metal as he steadied himself. The darkness was absolute—pitch black, the kind that felt thick and suffocating, like it was pressing in from every direction. He let out a soft exhale, his other hand reaching out, feeling its way cautiously along the walls. His fingertips brushed over the cool, damp surface, the texture slippery and unfamiliar. He couldn’t see a thing, only trusting his sense of touch and memory to guide him. His foot shifted, feeling its way on the rungs, while his other hand slid slowly along the wall, every motion deliberate, careful. After a moment, he swung himself out farther, muscles straining, and found himself on the opposite side of the ladder.
Fitzhugh’s voice cut through the tense silence, laced with biting sarcasm. "What if there’s someone up there, huh? An army patrol, or maybe a cop just waiting to catch us crawling out of a manhole like a couple of rats?" He gave a snort, clearly unimpressed. "That’d be a real subtle entrance, don’t you think?"
Steve’s eyes flicked up from the cover, his jaw set. His voice, though low, was firm. "We don’t have a choice, Fitzhugh." He gripped the edge of the iron cover tighter, his knuckles white. "It’s a chance we’re gonna have to take."
Fitzhugh let out a long, exasperated breath, his tone dripping with resignation. "Alright, fine," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Let’s see if we can get this thing open, then. Maybe we’ll get lucky, and it won’t be a total disaster."
Both men braced themselves as well they could on the slippery iron ladder, then, on Steve's signal, they heaved with all the power they could muster from their back and shoulder muscles. Neither was in a position to exert much leverage on the sewer cover, but slowly it began to lift, the iron lid grating harshly against the concrete of the street. Fractions of an inch at a time it moved; then, suddenly, it was free, and Fitzhugh almost fell back into the sewer as his body lunged upward too easily.
The cover itself flew to one side, clanging into the street with a crash each of the castaways was sure could be heard all over Ape City. For long minutes they crouched near the top of the ladder, waiting for a cry of alarm to go out. But all remained quiet above.
Finally, when he could stand the suspense no longer, Steve stuck his head up through the opening cautiously, unconsciously tensing his body for the impact of the bullet he was sure would be coming his way as soon as he showed himself. But the street was empty, and Steve's breath gushed out of him in a loud whoosh of relief.
Betty's voice shot up from below, sharp and impatient. "What’s going on up there?" she demanded, her tone tight with frustration.
Steve called down to Betty, his voice tinged with dry humor. "Nothing’s going on up here," he shot back. "It’s deserted, except for a couple of chimpanzees spooning on a bench across the square. But don’t worry, their backs are turned."
One more time, Steve studied the central square, with its triumphal arch rising majestically. Then, gingerly, he rose from the sewer hole.
Steve and his team exited the sewer hole with practiced urgency. Dan was first out, alert and ready. Fitzhugh followed quickly, grumbling but moving fast. Valerie emerged swiftly, staying low and scanning the area. Betty climbed out with sharp eyes scanning the street, and Mark adjusted his gear nervously as the last to emerge.
They quietly rushed to the shadowed side of the government buildings, staying hidden in the deep darkness. The tall buildings cast long shadows that helped conceal their movements. The streetlights provided faint glows in the distance, but they stayed in the shadows to avoid being seen.
Steve and his group followed a familiar route, crossing the western side of the square before turning onto a wide street. They stopped and quickly retreated back to the square.
Dan took a deep breath, his voice low but edged with tension. "That was a close call," he muttered, glancing over his shoulder as he pressed forward. His eyes scanned the surroundings, quickly calculating. "I’m guessing we’ve popped up right in the middle of the main movie theater district." He frowned slightly, shifting his stance as he looked at the glowing marquee signs and the faint outline of theaters in the distance. "Those lines of apes waiting for tickets would definitely spot us if we’re not careful. They’re everywhere around here. Wouldn’t be hard for them to notice us slipping out of the shadows."
Fitzhugh’s eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the flashing marquee above one of the theaters. The bold title blazed in neon: Nazrat of the Humanoids! He let out a dry chuckle, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Oh, great," he muttered, shaking his head. "Nazrat of the Humanoids? Sounds like a takeoff of Tarzan of the Apes—but in reverse. Real original." He scoffed, giving the sign a dismissive wave. "I wouldn’t pay three cents to see that crap. Probably full of bad acting and worse ideas." Fitzhugh glanced back at the group, his usual contempt evident in his expression. "If that's the kind of entertainment they’re into, no wonder the place is falling apart."
"Cut it, Fitz!" Steve snarled. "There! Let's take this side street, instead."
A few short blocks' walk away stood a building Steve had seen before, both from the outside and inside---and from the roof, where he'd escaped one night not long before. The Humanoid Behavioral Studies Laboratory. "Bingo!" he cried.
"You spotted the lab?" Dan asked.
"Just a couple hundred feet away. How's that for pinpoint navigation?"
Moments later, Steve and the others were crouched against the back wall of the laboratory building, one on either side of a lighted window. Feeling lucky but cautious, he raised his head to peer through a window and found himself face to face with scientist Zira holding a clipboard. Both ape and human were shocked and momentarily frozen in disbelief.
Steve quickly recovered from the shock and gestured for Zira to open the window. After hesitating, she spoke to someone out of his view, and he hoped it was her scientist husband, Cornelius.
It was Cornelius!
With his help guidance, Steve managed to pry open the stubborn window of the laboratory. Steve was the first to slip through, followed by Dan, Mark, Valerie, Betty, and Fitzhugh. Once inside, they quickly secured the window to avoid detection. Steve embraced Zira with relief, feeling the tension of their escape start to lift. "We made it," he whispered, holding her close.
"Oh, Blue-Eyes! I'm so glad you're safe!" she gushed.
"We've been worried about you ever since you escaped," Cornelius said, sticking out a paw for Steve to shake.
Steve pulled back from his embrace with Zira, his expression still soft with relief, but now turning toward the rest of the group. He glanced over his shoulder at the castaways, who had gathered quietly, eyes flicking between him and the two apes in the room.
"Alright, everyone," Steve said, his voice steady but with a certain warmth. "I’d like you to meet Cornelius and Zira. They’re the ones who’ve helped us out of a tight spot today. Cornelius is a scientist—he knows his way around a lab better than any of us, and Zira… well, she’s been a huge help, too."
He paused for a moment, letting the group process, then turned to Zira and Cornelius. "Cornelius, Zira—this is Dan, our co-pilot and the brains behind most of our escapes," he said with a nod toward Dan, who gave a small, almost dismissive wave. "This is Valerie Scott—she's a socialite by trade, but trust me, she’s got more grit than most people realize," he added with a hint of a smile. Valerie flashed a knowing look, arms crossed, but she offered a polite smile in return.
Steve continued, his gaze flicking to each of them in turn. "Mark Wilson—he's, uh, an engineer, but he also knows how to hold his own when it counts," he said with a nod at Mark, who gave a quiet, half-embarrassed shrug. "And this," Steve said with a raised eyebrow, "is Alexander Fitzhugh. He’s—well, let’s say he’s got a lot of opinions about everything. Doesn’t always agree with the rest of us, but we manage."
Fitzhugh shot him a pointed look but said nothing, clearly unimpressed by Steve’s description.
"And this is Betty," Steve added, motioning to the last of the group. "She’s been a steady hand through everything, no matter the situation."
Betty gave a nod, but her eyes remained sharp, sizing up Cornelius and Zira with a certain wariness.
"Glad to meet you all," Zira said, her voice calm and kind, though tinged with a bit of curiosity as she studied the strangers. Cornelius gave a brief nod, his posture slightly more reserved, but there was an unspoken understanding between him and Steve as he said, "It’s good to see others who are… not quite like the ones we’ve encountered."
Steve nodded, his eyes softening again as he turned back to Zira. "We’ll be alright, I think."
"Can we do anything to help?" Zira asked motioning the group to chairs at a long table covered with graphs and reports in untidy stacks.
"I hope so," Steve said, sitting down. "We picked up some papers---ordered----signed by--by---General Urko. They seem to be telling his underling soldiers, without coming right out in plain language---"
Corenlius broke in. "Urko often does things that way."
"You know him?" Valerie asked.
"We've met. He's the commanding officer of all the ape military forces. And he hates the humanoids. Also, he hates the Council of Elders. He's one of those military fanatics who thinks that government is too important to be left in the hands of mere civilians."
Fitzhugh smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he glanced toward Cornelius. "Sounds like the kind of guy who’d be all too happy to lead a 'revolution'... you know, the kind where everyone ends up goose-stepping and giving speeches about the glories of their supposed 'master race.' Those kinds of people are always dangerous. It never ends well."
Cornelius looked at Fitzhugh for a moment, brow furrowing in confusion at the cryptic reference, but after a beat, he seemed to grasp the general meaning. "I… I’m not entirely sure what you mean," Cornelius said cautiously, his tone polite but tinged with uncertainty. "But I can see that you’ve had... unpleasant experiences with those like Urko."
"Well," Steve continued, "that explains the orders, at any rate."
"What do you mean?" Zira asked.
"The intent of the orders seems to be to kill all the humanoids."
"What? He can't do that!" Zira burst out, shock and anger in her voice.
"Who's going to stop him?" Cornelius asked bitterly.
"Doctor Zaius!"
"Bah! Doctor Zaius is a fair ape, my dear, but he has no great love for the humanoids---and he knows he's soon going to be in a major fight with Urko for control of the government. So, he's not going to waste time contradicting Urko's orders for something as unimportant----to him----as a roundup of the humanoids."
"Are you sure?" Zira asked, pleading in her voice.
"I'm sure," Cornelius answered. "Besides, if Doctor Zaius did take sides, it would just lead to an immediate confrontation between him and the general. And I don't think he's ready for that quite yet. He's got the rest of the Council of Elders on his side, but Urko has a lot of strength in the Senate, and they can override the council. It's in the Book of Laws, even if that particular law has never been used."
Steve cleared his throat, breaking the brief silence. His gaze shifted between Zira and Cornelius, and his voice was steady, carrying the weight of their situation. "That's why we're here," he said, a hint of resolve in his words. "We refuse to be one of Urko’s targets."
Cornelius tilted his head slightly, his expression one of genuine curiosity mixed with a touch of frustration. "And what exactly do you expect me to do about it?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of skepticism. "I’m a scientist, not a soldier. I don’t have the means to take on Urko or his forces."
Valerie stepped forward, her voice calm but carrying the urgency of the situation. "Steve’s not asking for a war, Cornelius," she began, looking directly at the ape scientist. "What he’s asking is for you and Zira to help us locate the possible crash site of a ship similar to the one that brought us here—the Marintha." She paused for a moment, letting her words sink in, before continuing. "It’s our best hope for survival. If we can find it, we might be able to repair it or at least use parts from it to get away from this place—away from Urko and his regime."
Cornelius let out a resigned sigh and shrugged his shoulders, clearly unconvinced. "I wouldn’t even begin to know where to look for whatever it is you’re talking about," he said, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Dan shook his head, a determined glint in his eyes as he stepped forward. "I disagree, Cornelius," he said firmly, his voice steady but insistent. "You can help us. You’ve got the knowledge and the understanding that we don’t. You’ve seen how the apes think, how they operate. That kind of insight is exactly what we need to figure out where a ship like the Marintha might have ended up."
Steve took a step forward, his expression hardening with a mix of determination and the weight of everything they’d learned. "During our encounter with the humanoids," he began, his voice low but clear, "we found something important—evidence that a sister ship to our Spindrift crashed somewhere in this land. We came across a pair of airline wings, the kind they used to hand out to kids on flights. It’s not much, but it’s enough to know that another ship like ours crashed here, too." He glanced around at the group for a moment, making sure they were all paying attention before continuing. "More than likely, it crashed before we did. It’s got to be, or else Urko and his forces would’ve found it by now. The thing is, it’s still hidden. It’s still in a safe place, one that Urko wouldn’t think to look."
Cornelius wrinkled his muzzle, his expression darkening as he crossed his arms. "You don’t understand the full extent of Urko’s methods," he warned, his voice heavy with caution. "He’s not just some brute with a weapon. Urko is cunning, and his tactics are… ruthless. If he truly wanted to find you—and he does, make no mistake—he would. He’s capable of more than you realize."
Steve’s jaw tightened as he absorbed Cornelius’s words. He took a slow breath, then spoke with unwavering resolve, his voice calm but firm.
"Look, Cornelius, I get it," he said, his eyes meeting the ape scientist’s with quiet determination. "Urko is dangerous, and we know he’s not going to play fair. But we’ve got a choice. We can either give up and let him track us down, pick us off one by one, or we can fight." He paused, letting that sink in, then added, his voice growing steadier, "And even if it comes to that—if we have to fight him—it’ll be better than just waiting around to be killed. At least this way, we’re fighting for a chance. A chance to escape, a chance to survive." Steve took a step closer, his gaze hardening with resolve. "But here’s the thing—we won’t just fight him anywhere. If we’re going to stand a chance, we need to pick the ground. We need to choose where the battle happens, where the land works in our favor—not his."
"But what will you fight with?" Zira asked. "You have no weapons."
'I don't know," Dan admitted. "We'll have to design and build what weapons we can. Spears, bows and arrows, slings, the works."
Fitzhugh shifted uncomfortably the moment Steve's gaze landed squarely on him. There was a tension in the air now, the kind that prickled at the back of everyone's neck. Steve folded his arms across his chest, his stance solid, almost accusing.
"You know," Steve said slowly, his voice edged with quiet frustration, "this might be a good time to talk about those... items I found, Fitzhugh. Back when the suitcases broke open in the Spindrift."
Fitzhugh stiffened instantly, throwing a quick, almost desperate glance toward Zira and Cornelius, who were watching with wide, curious eyes. He raised his hands slightly, palms out in a pleading gesture. "Now, see here, Captain Burton," he said, his voice high and defensive. "Is this really the time to bring up misunderstandings? Especially in mixed company?"
Steve’s expression didn’t waver. "They have a right to know what kind of help—or problems—they might be dealing with," he said evenly. "And so does everyone else here."
Fitzhugh grimaced, tugging at the cuffs of his ragged jacket as if trying to pull himself together. Finally, with a loud, theatrical sigh, he muttered, "Oh, very well. If you must know..." He straightened up, lifting his chin with a forced air of dignity. "I am—not was—a... naval officer."
Dan let out a short, skeptical laugh, and Valerie folded her arms tightly across her chest, glaring at him.
"A naval officer who just happened to be smuggling illegal tech like a hand laser and security bypass tools in his luggage?" Steve pressed, his voice dry.
Fitzhugh flushed deep red, caught between anger and humiliation. "Fine! If you must put it so coarsely," he snapped. "I was engaged in certain... creative business ventures. High-risk investments! And—yes—perhaps the odd item or two that might not have exactly passed customs inspections."
Cornelius frowned, clearly trying to make sense of it, while Zira watched with a mixture of confusion and disapproval.
Steve gave a humorless smile. "So, in other words—you’re a thief."
Fitzhugh sniffed indignantly. "I prefer to think of myself as an entrepreneur. With... flexible ethics."
There was a beat of silence. Then Betty muttered under her breath, "Some entrepreneur."
Steve let out a long breath and shook his head. "Either way," he said, "we're stuck with you. And right now, we’ll need every edge we can get—including whatever tools you smuggled on board."
Fitzhugh looked away, his mouth tight, but said nothing. The truth was out now, and there was no taking it back.
"But you don't know where this Spindrift of yours is, do you?" Cornelius asked.
"On a riverbank, over in the Forbidden Zone."
"How will you find it?"
"Don't you have maps of the Forbidden Zone?" Don asked.
Cornelius shook his head. "Only the fringes of it. No ape, in our recorded history, has gone into the Forbidden Zone more than a mile or so---except soldiers on military expeditions. Or, at least none have ever admitted going there, since it's against one of our most sacred laws."
Mark, who had been silent through most of the exchange, shifted his weight and turned toward Steve, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. His voice cut through the tense atmosphere, steady and curious. "Steve," he said, "those humanoids you and Dan ran into... the ones living in the caves—what about them?"
"Who?"
Dan nodded quickly, stepping up beside Mark, his face lighting up with a flicker of hope. "Mark’s right," he said, glancing around at the others. "Those humanoids could be a big help. Their caves are close to the Zone—and if they're living out there, away from ape settlements, it means they’re not bound by the same laws Zira and Cornelius have to follow." Dan paused, making sure he had everyone’s attention. "They might’ve been able to move around the Zone pretty freely. If anyone’s seen where we came down, it’s probably them. They know the land better than anyone."
"Of course!" Zira exclaimed. "They'd probably know where the river is, too, and one or all of them could guide you there."
"Okay," Steve admitted with a smile, "finding the river’s a start. But even if we do, that still leaves the bigger problem—where do we look for the Marintha after we get Fitz’s tools? We can't just stumble around and hope we get lucky. We have to be smart. We have to make it hard for Urko to move troops against us—and we’ve got to find a spot where we can build a decent defensive position in case he does come after us."
"I think I might have the answer to that," said Cornelius, getting up and walking over to a file cabinet. "Let me see if I can find the right map. Ah, yes! Here it is."
Cornelius came back to the table and Zira quickly brushed aside a stack of papers to clear an area for the map. When Cornelius spread it on the table, the two men saw that it wasn't really a map. It was more of a sketch.
"You call this a map?" Zira asked with a huffy sniff.
"Since it's the only map of the area ever made, yes, I do call it a map, dear. I made it as I traveled, exploring along the southern and western edges of the Forbidden Zone."
"When was that?" Zira asked suspiciously.
"Years ago. Long before I met you."
"Does it really show an area where we might find the Marintha?" Steve inquired, bending over the map and trying to orient it with what he knew of the Forbidden Zone.
"Yes. Here," said Cornelius, pointing the dark, brown-furred finger of his left hand at a series of lines and curves sketched in near the map's left side. "Here," he said, using his other hand to point to some lines near Ape City, on the map's right, "is the river and mountains that lie between us and the valley and caves of the humanoids. You know that valley, I believe; it's where you stayed for a time and where Mount Apemore has the carved faces of our great simian ancestors. West of that valley, beyond several parallel rangers of very high mountains, is the Forbidden Zone. On foot, it took me more than two weeks to get across them.
"The Zone---as you know if you've wandered around in it---is many, many miles wide. It begins as low hills and then desert. Then there's a river---where your ship crashed, I judge. Then, beyond is more desert---much more desert!---most of it rocky and waterless. Finally, there are more lofty mountains again, on the western side of the Zone. I followed the hills south along the rim of the Zone and then across, till I reached the western side, and then went north some distance and crossed the mountains again.
"On the other side I discovered a kind of valley. It's rugged, overgrown, cut off by steep ridges on all sides. If a spaceship crashed there, it could easily have gone undetected by my people. And for you—it could serve as a natural fortress. It would take a major expedition to follow you there. And even if he did, his vehicles could not descend the cliffs."
"It sounds perfect," Valerie exclaimed.
"Yes. Perfect for that honeymoon you never took me on, Cornelius," Zira interrupted.
Her husband's yellowish-brown face reddened.
But now Steve was shaking his head doubtfully. "But what about the one side of the valley that has no cliff, Cornelius?"
"You mean the north side?"
Fitzhugh threw up his hands in exasperation and muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear, "Just the kind of place I’d expect you to pick, Burton—some miserable hole where Urko can circle around from the north, just like Cornelius did from the south, and trap us in it like rats!"
"Well, said the chimpanzee scientist, "you plan to set up defenses anyway. But you might be safe even without them. Here's why. Almost a hundred years ago, Galen the Bold, one of our greatest ape generals, attempted to cross the Zone with his forces. He got into the desert, yes, but his jeeps and tanks couldn't climb the western mountains---and there were no passes. He kept on going north, through the hills and desert, looking for a pass. Finally, he came to the land where the white waters begin that never melt---and still the western range blocked him."
"Cornelius, would Urko possibly try to reach the valley by your southern route and descend the cliffs on foot to reach us?" Steve asked.
"Well, yes, he might. He has a deep hatred for the humanoids. And, of course, he fears that you may teach them to speak and fight."
"Would all his men---his troops, that is---go with him on such a difficult expedition?"
"The regular army troops probably wouldn't. They're a pretty conservative and religious bunch, especially the middle-grade officers. But Urko's picked personal guard would definitely follow him---anywhere."
Betty crossed her arms, a wry smile curling at the corners of her mouth as she glanced at Steve. "Yeah, Steve," she chimed in with a sharp edge to her voice. "Your valley’s not exactly the fortress you think it is."21Please respect copyright.PENANAIJrhyeblSd
"Nevertheless, what choice do we have?" Steve said. "Once again, anything is better than letting ourselves just sit and wait to be wiped out at Urko's leisure. May we borrow this map?" he asked, turning to Cornelius.
"Of course. I have no further need for it. My exploration days are past. Besides, I am too busy."
"Okay," Steve replied. Then first, we have to get to the humanoids and see if they can lead us to the Spindrift.
"First," Dan insisted, "we have to get out of Ape City! And, in case you hadn't noticed, the streetlights are still on outside. And I believe I hear voices of people talking and laughing. Maybe the movies have just let out."21Please respect copyright.PENANAktamjILSqi
"Damn!" Fitzhugh muttered. "And we missed seeing Nazrat..."
"I'm sure we haven't missed much," Mark retorted.
"You could stay here in the lab, or in our home next door, till very late, and then leave town when no one is up and about," Zira suggested.
"No, I think we'd best get moving," Steve said. "Thank you, anyway. Since your lab building is on the edge of the city, we'll go out the back way, through those trees I escaped among the last time. The quicker we reach the Spindrift, the quicker we can get to the valley and out of Urko’s reach."
Steve solemnly folded up the map and tucked it into the pocket of his dirt-stained red leggings, carefully closing the zipper to make sure he didn't lose it."
"Cornelius," Zira suddenly burst out, "we must give them some furs---some of the humanoids' furs that we've saved---to camouflage them." She apologized to the seven castaways. "I would give you some extra simian clothing, but---well, your faces are so much prettier than ours and your hair is short. And we have no helmets here in the laboratory."
"Certainly, my dear. What a good idea!" her husband said as he and she dashed into an adjoining room and pulled open a tall, wooden chest-of-drawers.
They were back with the castaways in an instant.
"These outfits will help us pass the roadblocks that seem to surround your city just now," Steve said, quickly donning the smell animal fur, along with the others.
Mark grimaced, holding his nose as he looked around. "As luck would have it, I’ve gotten the worst smelling fur of all."
"They must still be searching for Blue-Eyes---even close to Ape City," Zira explained, and Steve blushed slightly.21Please respect copyright.PENANAYscOskG8DP
The castaways regrouped at the back window once again.
"Good luck!" Cornelius said simply, holding out his hand for everyone to shake.21Please respect copyright.PENANAHf33vc0fZ5
All seven of them smiled but nobody said anything. Then Steve reached out spontaneously, and gathered Zira into his arms, hugging her as he would have hugged his mother, and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead.
One after the other, the castaways climbed quickly out of the window and in seconds they were completely out of sight in the woods behind the laboratory. Cornelius, his hand in his wife's couldn't help noticing the glint of a tear in Zira's eyes.21Please respect copyright.PENANAaFLNqN991T