at his age.
Then there were the three new chimps. Nice healthy ones. They must have been sombody’s house pets, because they insisted on wearing clothes. They wanted to keep knives, too. Jim had been firm about that. The zoo rules had to be kept, even by chimpanzees brought in by the Navy and a lot of doctors and armed Marines. The lights were still on in the new chimps’ cage. Jim made sure there was plenty of bed straw and that the floors were clean, and they had oranges and bananas to eat. They were acting a bit scared. They hadn’t eaten anything, and they wouldn’t climb on the jungle gym or swing on the tires, but maybe they’d get over that in a day or so. Chimps were always fun. Jim had never had any trouble with chimps. He liked them.
The female seemed lonesome, sitting there at the edge of the cage. Jim found an especially nice banana and peeled it for her. He reached through the bars. The regulations said he wasn’t supposed to get that close to the cages when he was alone. Apes could grab a man and hurt him. They wouldn’t mean to, usually, but they could play rough, and it might be necessary to hurt one of the animals if it got loose.
But he’d never had trouble with chimps, and she looked so lonesome sitting there.
She slapped the banana away. Then she slapped him.
Jim stepped back from the cage and shrugged. “Have it your way, mate. Good night.” He flipped out the lights, and swung his flashlight around for a final inspection. Everything was in order, and he left the hospital ward, carefully closing the door.
The chimpanzees stared at the closed door.
“I’m not his mate,” the female said carefully. “I’m yours.”
“Zira, please. Control yourself, my dear. I think they’re trying to be kind.”
“This cage stinks of gorilla,” Zira insisted. She sat on the straw. One of the males joined her and took her hand. “But—Cornelius, where are we?” she asked. “And why are we pretending to be dumb animals?”
Cornelius looked up at the other male. “It was your idea, Dr. Milo. You haven’t had a chance to explain before. I think now would be a good time.”
“I did not think it wise to let them know we can speak, before,” Milo said carefully. He peeled an orange and ate it, grimacing as the juice ran across his fingers. “Now I’m sure of it. Consider. As we achieved orbit in Colonel Taylor’s spacecraft, we saw an explosion below. At least one entire hemisphere was destroyed. I do not doubt that the entire earth was made uninhabitable. Are we agreed?”
The seated chimpanzees nodded. “But if Earth is destroyed, where are we?” Zira asked again.
“I’ll tell you in a moment. Consider the situation, then. We are possibly the only survivors of our civilization. The last of the apes have killed each other in a war that no one could win. The fools have accomplished what they’ve been trying to achieve for centuries, and we can never go home. Now. As to where we are. I believe that in some fashion—and I lack the intellect to know precisely how, although I have theories—we have traveled from our own time into the past. Our civilization, the time of the apes, is in the distant future of this time. We are in our dim past, at a time when men are the dominant species on Earth, and apes cannot as yet speak.”
“But—we saw the earth destroyed!” Cornelius insisted.
“And Earth will be destroyed,” Milo said evenly. “Just as we saw it. But it destroyed itself in such a manner that we were sent into the past.”
“How?” Cornelius insisted.
“I told you, I am not precisely certain,” Milo said. “The philosophers have shown there is a definite relationship between time and velocity. Somehow, we had, through the combined orbital velocity of our spacecraft and that imparted to us by the greatest explosion in Earth’s history, just the right velocity to send us into the past. If you do not like that explanation, call it magic; I have no better one. The