I grasp his scheme in a flash and appreciate his ingenuity —but what obstacles!
“Some of the scientists responsible for this launching are friends of mine, and I have won them over to your cause. The satellite will be placed on the trajectory of your craft and will be navigable within certain limits. The human couple have been trained to carry out certain motions through conditioned reflexes. I think you’ll be even more skillful than they are. . . . For this is our plan: you three will take the place of the passengers. That shouldn’t be too difficult. As I said, I’ve already got the necessary accomplices: chimpanzees regard assassination with repugnance. The others won’t even notice the trick that’s played on them.”
This indeed is more than likely. To most of the apes, a man is a man and nothing more. The differences between one individual and another do not strike them.
“I’ll put you through an intensive course of training during these ten days. Do you think you’ll be able to board your craft?”
It ought to be possible. But it’s not the difficulties and dangers I am thinking about at the moment. I cannot shake off the melancholy that assailed me just now at the thought of leaving the planet Soror, Zira, and my fellows, yes, my fellow humans. Toward them I feel I am something of a deserter. Yet above all I must save my son and Nova. But I shall come back. Yes, later, I swear it on the heads of the captives in the cages, I shall come back with trump cards in my hand.
I am so bewildered that I voice my thoughts out loud.
Cornelius smiles.
“In four or five years of your time, your traveling time, but in more than a thousand years as far as we stay-at-homes are concerned. Don’t forget that we, too, have discovered relativity. In the meantime I’ve discussed the risk with my chimpanzee friends and we have decided to take it.”
We leave one another after making arrangements to meet on the following day. Zira goes out first. Remaining behind with Cornelius for a moment, I take the opportunity of thanking him with all my heart. Inwardly I’m wondering why he is doing all this for me. He reads my thoughts.
“Zira’s the one you ought to thank,” he says. “It’s to her you will owe your life. On my own, I don’t know if I should have gone to so much trouble or taken so many risks. But she would never forgive me for being a party to murder . . . and anyway . . .”
He pauses. Zira is waiting for me in the corridor outside. He makes sure she cannot hear and quickly whispers:
“Anyway, for her as well as me, it is better that you should vanish from this planet.”
He closes the door after me as I leave the room. I am alone with Zira and we take a few steps along the corridor.
“Zira!”
I stop and take her in my arms. She is as upset as I am. I see a tear coursing down her muzzle while we stand locked in a tight embrace. Ah, what matter this horrid material exterior! It is her soul that communes with mine. I shut my eyes so as not to see her grotesque face, made uglier still by emotion. I feel her shapeless body tremble against mine. I force myself to rub my cheek against hers. We are about to kiss like lovers when she gives an instinctive start and thrusts me away violently.
While I stand there speechless, not knowing what attitude to adopt, she hides her head in her long hairy paws and this hideous she-ape bursts into tears and announces in despair:
“Oh, darling,, it’s impossible. It’s a shame, but I can’t, I can’t. You are really too unattractive!”
CHAPTER THIRTY - SEVEN
We have brought it off. I am once again traveling through space aboard the cosmic craft, rushing like a comet in the direction of the solar system at an ever-increasing speed.
I am not alone. With me are Nova and Sirius, the fruit of our interplanetary passion, who can say “papa,” “mama” and many other words. Also on board are a couple of chickens and rabbits, and various seeds that the scientists put in the satellite to study the effects of radiation on organisms of very diverse kinds. All this will not be wasted.
Cornelius’ plan was carried out to the letter. Our substitution for the selected trio was made without difficulty. The woman took Nova’s place in the institute; the child will be handed over to Zaius. The latter will demonstrate that he cannot talk and is nothing but an animal. Then perhaps I will no longer be considered dangerous, and the man who has taken my place, who will also not talk, will be spared his life. It is unlikely that they will ever suspect the substitution. The orangutans, as I’ve said before, make no distinction between one man and another. Zaius will triumph. Cornelius will have a few worries perhaps, but all this will soon be forgotten. . . . What do I mean! It is forgotten already, for aeons have elapsed out there during the few months I have been shooting through space. As for me, my memories are rapidly receding, like the material body of the super-giant Betelgeuse, as the space-time increases between us: the monster has changed in size to a small balloon, then an orange. It is now no more than a minute bright spot in the galaxy. So is it with my Sororian thoughts.
It would be unreasonable of me to fret. I have succeeded in saving the beings who are dear to me. Whom do I miss over there? Zira? Yes, Zira. But the emotions that came to life between us had no name on Earth or in any other region of the cosmos. The separation was essential. She must have recovered her peace of mind, bringing up her baby chimpanzees after marrying Cornelius. Professor Antelle? To hell with the professor! I could no longer do anything for him, and he has apparently found a satisfactory solution to the problem of existence. Only I shudder occasionally when I think that had I been placed in the same environment as he was, and without Zira’s presence, I, too, might have fallen equally low.
The boarding of our craft took place without a hitch. I was able to draw closer and closer to it by guiding the satellite, and to enter the compartment, which had been left wide open for the eventual return of our launch. Then the robots went into action and closed all the exits. We were on board. The equipment was intact and the electronic brain started carrying out all the operations for our departure. On the planet Soror our accomplices pretended that the satellite had been destroyed in flight after failing to be placed in orbit.
We have been traveling for more than a year and a half of our own time. We have reached almost the speed of light, crossed an immense space in a very short time, and have already embarked on the deceleration period that is to last another year. In our little universe I never get tired of admiring my new family.
Nova is bearing the voyage extremely well. She is becoming more and more rational. Her motherhood has transformed her. She spends hours doting on her son, who is proving to be a better teacher for her than I was. She articulates almost correctly the words he utters. She does not yet talk to me, but we have drawn up a code of gestures enabling us to understand each other. I feel as though I had lived with her always. As for Sirius, he is truly the pearl of the cosmos. He is a year and a half old. He walks, despite the heavy gravity, and babbles without stopping. I cannot wait to show him to the men on Earth.
What intense emotion I felt this morning when I noticed the sun beginning to assume perceptible dimension! It appears to us now like a billiard ball and is tinged with yellow. I point it out to Nova and Sirius. I explain the nature of this heavenly body, which is new to them, and they understand. Today Sirius talks fluently and Nova almost as well. She has been learning at the same time as he. Miracle of motherhood, miracle that I Ovulated! I was unable to raise all the men on Soror from their animal state, but my success in Nova’s case is complete.
The sun is growing bigger every moment. I try to distinguish the planets through the telescope. I can find my bearings easily. I can see Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, and ... the Earth, yes, here is the Earth!
Tears come into my eyes. Only someone who has lived more than a year on the planet of the apes could appreciate my emotion. ... I know that after seven hundred years I shall find neither parents nor friends, but I can hardly wait to see proper men again.
Glued to the portholes, we wat
ch Earth approaching.
I no longer need the telescope to distinguish the continents. We are in orbit. We are revolving around my old planet. I can see Australia, America, and then . . . yes, here is France. We all three embrace, sobbing.
We embark in the vessel’s second launch. All the calculations have been made with a view to landing in my native country: not far from Paris, I hope.
We have entered the atmosphere. The retrorockets come into action. Nova looks at me and smiles. She has learned how to smile and also how to weep. My son stretches his arms out and opens his eyes in wonder. Below us is Paris. The Eiffel Tower is still there.
I have taken over the controls and am navigating very accurately. A miracle of technique! After seven hundred years’ absence I manage to land at Orly—it has not changed very much—at the end of the airfield fairly far from the airport buildings. They must have noticed me, so all I need do is wait There seems to be no air traffic; could the airport be out of use? No, there goes a machine. It resembles in every respect the aircraft of my day and age!
A vehicle moves off from the buildings, heading in our direction. I switch off my rockets, a prey to an increasingly feverish excitement What a story I shall have to tell my fellow humans! Perhaps they won’t believe me at first, but I have proof. I have Nova, I have my son.
The vehicle approaches. It is a truck and a fairly old-fashioned model: four wheels and a combustion engine. I automatically register these details. I should have thought such vehicles had been relegated to museums long ago.
I also expected a somewhat more official reception. There are very few people here to greet me. Only two men, as far as I can see. But how stupid I am—of course they cannot know. But when they do know . . .!
Yes, there are two of them. I cannot see them distinctly because of the setting sun reflected on the windshield, an extremely dirty windshield. Just the driver and one passenger. The latter wears a uniform. He is an officer; I can see the glitter of his badges of rank. The commander of the airport, probably. The others will follow.
The truck stops fifty yards from us. I pick my son up in my arms and leave the launch. Nova follows us after a moment’s hesitation. She looks frightened but she will soon get over it.
The driver gets out of the vehicle. He has his back turned to me. He is half concealed by the long grass growing in the space between us. He opens the door for the passenger to alight I was not mistaken, he is an officer; a senior officer, as I now see from his badges of rank. He jumps down. He takes a few steps toward us, emerges from the grass, and at last appears in full view. Nova utters a scream, snatches my son from me, and rushes back with him to the launch, while I remain rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle or utter a sound. He is a gorilla.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Phyllis and Jinn raised their heads from the manuscript over which they had been bending together and looked at each other for some time without saying a word.
“A likely story,” said Jinn at last, forcing a smile to his lips.
Phyllis remained wrapped in thought. Certain parts of the story had moved her and seemed to contain a germ of truth. She said so to her companion.
“It just shows there are poets everywhere, in every corner of the cosmos, and practical jokers, too.”
She pondered over this, but was not so easily convinced as he was. However, she reluctantly agreed.
“You’re right, Jinn. That’s what I think. . . . Rational men? Men endowed with a mind? Men inspired by intelligence? No, that’s not possible; there the author has gone too far. But it’s a pity!”
“I quite agree,” said Jinn. “Now it’s time we started back.”
He let out the sail, exposing it to the combined rays of the three suns. Then he began to manipulate the driving levers, using his four agile hands, while Phyllis, after dismissing a last shred of doubt with an energetic shake of her velvety ears, took out her compact and, in view of their return to port, touched up her dear little chimpanzee muzzle.
THE END
Table of Contents
part one
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
part two
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY - TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY - FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY - SIX
part three
CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY - EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY - ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY - TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY - THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY - FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY - FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY - SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY - SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Pierre Boulle, Planet of the Apes
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