Will Self - Great Apes

‘What sort of experiments “huuu”?’

Simon’s muzzle was a picture of anxiety. He hadn’t exactly expected to see Simon junior in the humans’ enclosure, but nonetheless an insistent image of his missing human infant kept coming to him. He peered through the thick glass into the dim recesses of the humans’ room. It would be demonic, evilly bad to see the familiar muzzle, the undershot jaw and slightly goofy teeth in amongst these naked brutes. All of Simon’s pictures were of a clothed infant, an infant in school uniform. If these humans were to be clothed, they’d look altogether subversive, like humans got up for a travesty of a tea party, or a P.G. Tips commercial.

Even more unsettling was the image of Simon junior naked, strapped down, electrodes wired to his shaven head, or hypodermic syringes shot into his furless flesh. Simon junior infected with CIV, or poisoned with anthrax, or with his eyelids pinned back so that perfumed fursprays could be tested on his exposed eyeballs.

‘“Hooo” well, we don’t do anything that involves harming our humans. We’re more interested in attempting to get genetic profiles of human sub-species. One of our biggest problems with captive humans is that all the subspecies have interbred in captivity, so most of these humans are hybrids. You see, it wasn’t known that there were human sub-species until recently—’

‘“H’huuu” what, may I ask, distinguishes them?’ Busner flicked in.

‘It’s difficult for laychimps to spot the difference without training, I think because the sight of humans is so unsettling to begin with — but, put simply, they have different “euch-euch” skin colourings, and also different casts to their muzzles. Once you’re trained in identifying them, it’s quite easy to tell them apart. Not that that would help you much with our group — apart from that one,’ he stabbed at the Commuter, ‘they’re all hybrids.’

The chimps squatted in silence for some minutes observing the lack of activity in the human enclosure. Most of the animals were gathered on the sleeping platform, but unlike chimpanzees they had no interest in touching one another. Instead they sat side-by-side in a long row, their dumb rigid feet sticking up like bony bookends, their bald muzzles devoid of expression or intelligence. The only movement came from a group of infants who were playing in the area underneath the platform. These mites were far more chimp-like. They rolled in the straw, they dangled from the handholds, they tickled and sported with one another.

Naturally it was these infants who were attracting the attention of what few visitors there were to the zoo. The chimps were, as ever, entranced by the human infants, and kept on fingering how like chimpanzee infants they were. Simon grasped Busner’s thick thigh and inparted, ‘If I see another chimp sign that they’re cute, I think I’m going to scream.’

‘Calm down “gru-unn”,’ Busner inparted in turn. ‘It’s only civil to allow Carchimp to hold forth for a bit before we get down to business.’

There were two adult humans who were attracting the chimps’ attention. A pair at the very back of the enclosure almost completely concealed behind a bale of straw. All that could be seen of them was the buttocks of one individual rising up and down, up and down; and clutched around the obscenely smooth bulges the feet of another. The chimps were pointing at this and fluttering about it, but none of them seemed to have any idea of what was going on. ‘Most unusual,’ Mick Carchimp gestured, seeing that Simon was fixated, ‘to see them mating during the day.’

‘“H’huuu” mating?’

‘That’s right, you know, of course, that humans normally seek privacy for mating. I imagine that’s why this pair have attempted to conceal themselves behind the bale. The male will be the one on top, and those are the female’s feet grasped around his rump. It’s not exactly a pretty sight—’

‘They’ve been at it for ages!’ Busner chopped the air.

‘That’s right. As you may be aware, humans can take anything up to half an hour to achieve a full mating — there are even some reports of them taking far longer in the wild, although no one is quite sure why.’

Simon thought he might be sure why. He watched the buttocks rise and fall, rise and fall, and the jerking animals pulled back a vision of Sarah from the deep recesses of his mind. A vision of Sarah as a beautiful human moaning beneath him, her feet clutched around his plunging buttocks. ‘Please “huu”, I hate to be precipitate, Mr Carchimp—’

‘Please, denote me Mick,’ the primate keeper countersigned.

‘Mick, I don’t know whether Dr Hamble signed anything to you about the reason for our visit “huu”?’

‘He delineated that it was something to do with an individual human that you had an interest in.’

Simon lit a Bactrian and inhaled deeply, before continuing, ‘“Hooo” that’s right. You see, I believe you have a programme where chimps can “euch-euch” adopt an animal, sort of sponsor its upkeep “huu”?’

‘That’s right, it’s part of the Lifewatch 2000 scheme. Is the human you’re interested in one of the adoptions “huu”?’

‘We believe so,’ Busner signed. ‘My ally Mr Dykes sponsored the animal on behalf of his infants. A male infant of about seven — it might be one of that group there.’ He indicated the sporting human offspring.

‘We don’t have any infants of that precise age at the moment, but why not come to my office “huuu”? I have the stud book there and the Lifewatch register; between the two we should be able to find out what’s happened to your adoptive human.’

Carchimp’s office was at the back of the main administration building, but while removed from the immediate vicinity of the enclosures, there were still strong animal odours fugging it up. The office had little in the way of furniture, only a couple of battered filing cabinets and a small kneehole desk. Posters of phyletic trees were tacked on to the walls, together with flyers advertising veterinary drugs.

Knight’s crew crammed into the small room, along with Carchimp, Busner and Simon. The Director had scuttled off somewhere, signing about another television crew coming to film him.

They all indulged in a grooming session for five minutes, solidifying as chimps must the provisional hierarchy. Then Carchimp broke from the hispid huddle and swaggered over to a bookcase. He footed out a large ring binder from the bottom shelf and pulled a much thinner, glossier binder from the top shelf. These he brought back to the group on the floor. ‘This,’ he signed, ‘is the Lifewatch register. Can you recall, Mr Dykes, what the serial number of your adoptive human was “huu”?’

Simon looked nonplussed. ‘Serial number “huu”? No, you see, I adopted the human for my oldest male infant Magnus, and he denoted it… he denoted it Simon.’

‘Simon “huu”? We don’t really give our humans names for recording purposes, it’s veering rather too far in the direction of primatomorphising them, although naturally the keepers denote them for reasons of day-to-day convenience. And some of our Lifewatch literature certainly “euch-euch” primatomorphises.’ He held up a leaflet which invited readers to consider ‘Groomin’ a Human’.

‘However, we can find your name in the register and get the animal’s serial number. Let me see…’ He began to leaf through the Lifewatch binder, ‘Dykes, Dykes, yes — here we are. Simon Dykes. You sponsored this individual, serial number 9234, to the tune of some five hundred pounds — a very generous donation.

‘Now, if I look in the stud book I can find out what’s happened to 9234. He could have been transferred to another zoo, or even somewhere else—’