Greg Keyes - Dawn of the Planet of the Apes - Firestorm

“Look, I’m not sworn in yet, but I think there’s something we should get on top of, right now, before it gets away from us. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but this is important.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Mayor.”

What’s bothering Caesar? Maurice asked, looking out over their new home, however temporary it might be.

Too quiet , he replied.

Too quiet , Maurice echoed.

Caesar watched a juvenile chimp playing with a young orangutan.

They will come again , he said. But not the same way .

I agree , Maurice signed.

They have a tricky thinker with them , Caesar said. Learned our ways and used them against us. I think they were driving us to the helicopters, but helicopters went away.

Maybe humans fighting each other, too, like in store , Maurice offered. Maybe it’s the disease you heard them talking about. Things may be getting worse for them. Maybe they don’t care about us as much.

They weren’t together , Ceasar replied. Something about their plan changed. I feel it. But if they try again, they won’t try the same thing. He looked at Maurice. How would you catch apes?

Maurice shifted slightly on his branch.

Get rid of trees , he said finally.

Caesar looked at the giants around him.

Humans come on ground , Maurice explained. Helicopters come from the sky. Apes can go over humans on the ground, stay below the tops of the trees where helicopters can see.

How could they get rid of the trees? Caesar wondered.

Fire , Maurice replied.

Caesar looked around again.

Burn this? he said. He remembered his trips here with Will, and the other humans he had seen. This place is important even to humans . They wouldn’t burn it .

If Caesar says so , Maurice replied.

How else?

Maurice held up his hands, making two half-circles with them. He brought them together to form a circle.

Come from every direction , Caesar said. Thought of that . But we could go up. Like you said.

They could think of that, too , Maurice replied.

We’re waiting on them again , Caesar said, his frustration mounting . Waiting to respond to them.

Maybe they won’t do anything , Maurice signed.

Caesar looked over at the orangutan, and realized that Maurice was saying something that wasn’t true, in order to be funny. What did Will call that?

A joke.

Caesar laughed. He didn’t mean to—it just came out.

Maybe they all go in the water and swim away , he replied. Maybe turn into fish and leave us alone .

Maurice made a croaking sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh. Nearby apes heard them laugh and started laughing, too, just the way they did when they were playing with things.

Maybe apes still not too smart , Maurice said.

No , Caesar said, remembering a dinner party at Will’s home. Humans do this, too. Laugh when they don’t hear the joke.

Maybe humans not so smart, either .

“We’re prisoners, aren’t we?” Clancy asked him.

They were in the hut that served as their quarters, but it was clear that they were locked in even before he checked to make certain.

“Yes.” Malakai nodded.

“Why?”

“It’s good news,” Malakai said. “It means they’re still trying to decide what to do with us.”

“You mean as opposed to just killing us,” she said.

“You’ve worked that out,” he said. “Very good.”

“Crap,” she said. “I hoped I was kidding. Would they really kill us?”

“You had to have suspected,” he replied. “Everything so secret, no contact with anyone allowed. Does anyone even know you’re here?”

“Well, David.”

“That’s the guy you emailed the other night.”

“Yeah. But he sort of knew before. I wasn’t supposed to tell him, but I did. He and I—we hang out.”

“Hang out? What does that mean? You stand around in front of a store, drinking beer?”

“No. More like we have sex now and then.”

“So he’s your boyfriend.”

“No,” she said. “We just hang out.”

“We’re both speaking English, and yet I don’t understand you.”

“Holy shit,” she said. “That was supposed to be a joke.”

He shrugged.

“This is when you get funny?” she asked. “When you’re about to die?”

“I’ve been here a lot of times,” he said. “At some point, what else do you do?”

She was silent for a moment.

“You’re a bad guy, aren’t you?”

His first instinct was not to answer her at all, but then he saw she was really serious.

“Bad guy?” he said. “I don’t know. “Remember how I told you my uncle took me to see the gorillas when I was eight?

“Yes.”

“It was so I could learn how to kill them. And you know why we killed them? Because we were starving. And why were we starving? Because we were from the wrong tribe in the wrong place at the wrong time. So was I doing a bad thing to hunt bushmeat?”

“Gorillas are an endangered species,” she said. “And they’re as conscious as we are.”

“What did that mean to me? My family was endangered.”

“So anything you do is justified, if you do it to save yourself?”

“You see,” he said, “this is the sort of question that does not occur to you when you are there, and people are assaulting your sister before they kill her with a machete. And why it doesn’t occur to me now that I should have to justify myself to a spoiled, western child. Whatever I’ve done, it is done. Any soul-searching would be a waste of time. If you kill someone, do you think they give a shit if you feel sorry about it later? Penitence is nothing but a form of self-indulgence. Some things you cannot wash from your hands, and there’s no use in trying.”

He saw that she had tears in her eyes.

“Oh, what are you doing now?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“About what?”

“I’m just sorry,” she said.

Malakai lurched out of the chair, stalked out of the common room and sat on his own bed. He lifted his hands, staring at them, as if they weren’t his at all, but some sort of alien appendages that had been grafted there.

He remembered the look in the eye of the ape leader. The purpose.

He heard a knock. It was Clancy, of course.

“Do you drink?” she asked.

She was holding a bottle of Scotch.

“Where did you get that?” he asked.

“I brought it with me,” she said. “It wasn’t electronic, and it wasn’t a gun, so they let me keep it.”

Malakai studied the bottle for a moment.

“Yes,” he said finally. “I could use a drink.”

She produced a pair of paper cups from the lavatory, and poured them each a shot.

“To whatever the hell that was we saw today,” she said, raising her cup.

“To staying alive,” he added, and they drank.

“You’re not going to cry again are you?” he asked her, after a moment.

“You’re just so… damaged ,” she said. “To see something like that—”

“Yes, yes,” he said.

“How old were you?”

“Twelve,” he said. “I was twelve.”

She took another shot.

“Can you tell me more… about your family?”

“Oh, you want a bedtime story now?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” she said, after a moment. “I want to know.” This is stupid , he thought. Why should I even be speaking to her?