Zira asked me why I was looking so sad. I told her. Cornelius then informed me that he had made inquiries about the professor and that he was in good health. There would be no opposition now to his being released. I insisted that I could not wait a minute longer before bringing him this good news.
“After all,” Cornelius agreed, after thinking it over, “one can’t refuse you anything on a day like this. Let’s go. I know the director of the zoo.”
The three of us left the nightclub and drove to the garden. On being waked up, the director bestirred himself. He knew all about me. Cornelius told him the true identity of one of the men he held locked up in a cage. He could hardly believe his ears, but he, too, was eager to do all he could for me. We should have to wait, of course, until the next day and go through various formalities before he could release the professor, but meanwhile there was nothing against our having a talk with him at once. He offered to accompany us.
Day was breaking when we reached the cage In which the luckless scientist lived like an animal in the midst of fifty men and women. These were still asleep, huddled together in couples or in groups of four or five. They opened their eyes as soon as the director switched on the lights.
It did not take me long to find my companion. He was stretched out on the ground like the others, huddled against the body of a girl who looked quite young. I shuddered to see him like this, and at the same time was moved by the debasement to which I, too, had been reduced for four months.
I was so upset that I could not speak. The men, who were now awake, showed no sign of surprise. They were tame and well trained; they began performing their usual tricks in the hope of some reward. The director threw them some pieces of cake. Immediately scuffles and disputes broke out, as they did during the day, while the quietest of them assumed their favorite position, squatting by the bars and stretching out an imploring hand.
Professor Antelle followed their example. He came up as close as possible to the director and begged for a titbit. This humiliating behavior gave me a sickening feeling that soon became an unbearable anguish. He was three paces away; he was looking at me and appeared not to recognize me. In fact, his eyes, which had once been so keen, had lost all their gleam and suggested the same spiritual void as those of the other captives. I was horrified to see in them no more emotion than that aroused among the other captives by the presence of a man in clothes.
I made a great effort and managed at last to speak in order to put an end to this nightmare.
“Professor,” I said, “Master, it is I, Ulysse Merou. We are saved. I came here to tell you . . .”
I stopped in sheer amazement. At the sound of my voice he had reacted in the same way as the men of the planet Soror. He had suddenly lowered his head and shrunk away.
“Professor, Professor Antelle,” I beseeched him, “it’s I, Ulysse Merou, your traveling companion. I am free, and in a few hours you will be too. These apes you see here are our friends. They know who we are and welcome us like brothers.”
There was no response. He showed not the slightest sign of comprehension but, with another frightened gesture like that of a startled beast, recoiled still further.
I was in despair, and the apes seemed extremely puzzled. Cornelius wrinkled his brow, as he did when he was trying to find the solution to a problem. It crossed my mind that the professor, frightened by their presence, might well be pretending to be witless. I asked them to move away and leave me alone with him, to which they readily agreed. When they had disappeared, I walked around the cage to reach the corner in which the scientist had taken refuge and again I spoke to him:
“Master,” I implored him, “I understand your caution. I know the danger to which men from Earth are exposed on this planet. But we are alone, I give you my word of honor, and our ordeals are over. You must believe me, your companion, your disciple, your friend, Ulysse Merou.”
He shrank back still further, darting furtive glances in my direction. Then, while I stood there trembling, not knowing what else to say, he half opened his mouth.
Had I succeeded at last in convincing him? I watched him, hoping against hope. But I remained speechless with horror at the manner in which he expressed his emotion. I said that he had half opened his mouth, but this was not the spontaneous gesture of a creature preparing to speak. He emitted from it a gurgling sound similar to those uttered by the strange men on this planet to express satisfaction or fear. There in front of me, without moving his lips, while my heart went numb with horror, Professor Antelle gave vent to a long-drawn-out howl.
part three
CHAPTER TWENTY - SEVEN
I woke early after a restless night. I turned over three or four times in my bed and rubbed my eyes before fully recovering consciousness, still unaccustomed to the civilized I life I had been leading for a month, feeling anxious every morning at not hearing the straw creak and not feeling Nova’s warmth against me.
I eventually came to my senses. I was living in one of the most comfortable apartm
ents in the institute. The apes had proved extremely generous. I had a bedroom, a bathroom, clothes, books, a television set. I read all the papers, I was free, I could go out, walk about the streets, attend any entertainment. My presence in a public place still provoked considerable interest, but the emotion of the first few days had started to die down.
Cornelius was now the scientific head of the institute. Zaius had been dismissed—he had been given another post, however, and a new decoration—and Zira’s fiancé installed in his place. This had resulted in a reorganization of the personnel, a general promotion of the chimpanzee element, and renewed activity in every department Zira had become the new director’s assistant.
As for me, I took part in the scientist’s research work, no longer as a guinea pig but as a collaborator. However, it was only with great difficulty and after much hesitation on the part of the Grand Council that Cornelius had been granted this favor. The authorities still appeared reluctant to admit my nature and origin.
I dressed quickly, left my room, and walked over to the wing of the institute where I had once been a prisoner: the department under Zira, who was still directing it in addition to her new duties. With Cornelius’ permission, I had embarked there on a systematic study of the men.
Here I am in the room with the cages, walking along the corridor in front of the bars like one of the masters of this planet. Shall I admit that I come here frequently, more frequently than my duties demand? There are times when I feel burdened by constantly simian surroundings, and here I find a sort of refuge.
The captives are well acquainted with me now and recognize my authority. Do they see any difference between me, Zira, and the warders who bring them their food? I should like to think so, but I doubt it. For the last month, despite my patience and efforts, I, too, have been unsuccessful in making them achieve any higher level of performance than that of well-trained animals. A secret intuition tells me, however, that their potentialities are enormous.
I should like to teach them to talk. This is my great ambition. I have not succeeded, I admit. It is only with the utmost difficulty that some of them manage to repeat a monosyllabic sound or two, which certain chimpanzees on Earth can do. It is not much, but I am persevering. What encourages me is the new persistence with which their eyes try to meet mine, eyes which for some time have seemed to be gradually changing in expression. I fancy I can see in them a spark of curiosity, associated with a superior mentality, breaking through the animal mindlessness.
I move slowly around the room, stopping in front of each of the captives. I speak to them; I speak to them gently, patiently. They are now accustomed to this unusual behavior on my part. They seem to listen. I go on for several minutes, then stop speaking in whole sentences and pronounce a few simple words, repeating them over and over again, hoping for an echo. One of them clumsily articulates a syllable, but this is as far as he will go today. The subject soon gets tired, abandons the superhuman task, and lies down on the floor as though after some exhausting effort. I sigh and pass on to the next one. I finally come to the cage in which Nova is at present vegetating in solitary sadness. Sadness—this at least is what I, with my Earthman’s conceit, wish to believe, and I struggle to detect this emotion on her beautiful but inexpressive features. Zira has not given her another mate, and I am grateful for that I often think of Nova. I cannot forget the hours I spent in her company. But I have never again entered her cage; human self-respect forbids me. Is she not an animal? I now live in the highest scientific circles; how could I let myself indulge in such a relationship? I blush at the thought of our former intimacy. Since I have changed camps I have even forbidden myself to show her more affection than I show to her fellows.
Nevertheless I cannot help noting that she is an exceptional subject and I am glad of that. With her I obtain better results than with the others. She presses up against the bars as soon as she sees me, and her mouth twists into a grimace that could almost pass as a smile. Even before I have opened my mouth she tries to pronounce the three or four syllables she has learned. Her diligence is evident. Is she naturally more gifted than the others? Or has contact with me polished her and given her a capacity to benefit more from my lessons? I like to think, with a certain complacency, that this is the case.
I say her name, then my own, pointing my finger alternately at her and myself. She imitates the gesture. But I see her expression change suddenly and she bares her teeth as I hear a gentle chuckle behind me.