Just as they were gathering for their midday rest in the ravine, a whooping noise began from down the slope. It was, in fact, the recorded call of a howler monkey, chosen because it was natural enough not to alarm the chimps but couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. If it had come in short bursts, it would have been a signal that Dad or someone wanted to see her urgently, but the steady unbroken version just meant Come if you can. Sniff had come back from his reconnoiter in an aggressive mood and had had several confrontations with Billy. Now they were making it up, clasped together, absorbedly peering and combing each other’s fur. Nobody but Sniff would have been likely to keep an eye on Eva. Slowly she edged herself clear and slipped away.
Dad was waiting by the gate, fanning the flies away with a branch. Sweat streamed down his beard.
“Having fun?” he said.
Eva grunted enthusiasm.
“And your pals?”
“Uh.”
“The shaper chaps are pleased with the pictures they’re getting. There’s one long sequence, yesterday, when you were settling into those trees in the gorge. That was lovely to see. Like a Japanese print.”
He had brought the keyboard. Eva picked it up and pressed the keys.
“Lovely to do,” she said.
Eva had heard the enthusiasm in his voice and was glad but at the same time bothered. In a few days’ time she was going to let him down very badly. He was doing his best for her and for the chimps, he thought. He really wanted them to be happy. He loved them, in his way. Probably he understood them better than any human alive, but still she didn’t dare tell him.
“What happened up at the top of the enclosure this morning?” he said.
“Uh?”
“We saw you and Sniff going off on your fence survey. Characteristic—he’s a very bright lad. We don’t have any cameras right up there in the open, so the next thing we knew was the alarm bell ringing in the camp. The circuit didn’t break, so we left it until we saw you coming back down the far side.”
Inwardly Eva frowned. They hadn’t told her about the alarm bell.
“He fell against the fence,” she said. “He’d been testing it with a branch. He’s learned now.”
“You don’t think we ought to get cameras up there?”
“He was just looking. He’s like that. They won’t run off. They’re happy here.”
“That’s my line. I must say, I’ll be sorry for them when we’ve got to go.”
“Me too. Heard from Mom?”
“I’ll be calling her tonight.”
“Give her my love.”
“Of course.”
Eva handed him the keyboard and knuckled back up to the ravine. The moment she appeared Sniff swung across through the branches and faced her, bristling. When she crouched and panted he came close and smelled her all over, then faced her again, less challengingly but with a look of querying suspicion. She reached up and stroked his cheek before offering him her shoulder to groom. He grunted softly and began, while Eva sat hunched and thinking.
The alarm bell was a problem. On the other hand it was good to know for sure that there were no cameras up at the top. She’d been told about the cameras in the valley, because of being expected to maneuver the chimps in front of them, so she ought to be able to construct a mental map of the areas that weren’t in range. In one of those areas she’d have to find and break off a long straight branch, preferably with a fork at the end and strong enough to bear Sniff’s weight. Then, still keeping out of range, she’d have to take it up and stow it somewhere near the top.
Food? It might be possible to hoard some chimp chow. They’d found enough food in the trees yesterday not to eat all their ration last night. There were no cameras trained on the feeding area, because the whole idea was to show the chimps living wild. Chimp chow would be a let-down. But how to store it and carry enough to see four or five chimps through the first day or so . . .
Four or five? Well, Sniff would come. Eva was as sure of that as if he’d told her in words. Lana was no adventurer, but she’d have to be made to, somehow. Two more at the most. Who? How?
And when? The obvious time for a breakout was early dawn. With a little luck it would be hours before the watchers below were sure enough in their counting to know you were missing, but you’d never get chimps to behave like that. Chimps liked to wake slowly and sit around and scratch and groom one another, reminding themselves who and where they were and how they fitted into the group. They’d never be restless enough for action till at least midmorning, and by then the humans below would be watching . . .
And now the alarm bell . . .
Eva heard a gloomy, meditative grunt and realized that she had made it herself. Sniff stopped grooming. He put his hand to her face and turned her head so that he could stare into her eyes. His gaze was clear, deep, and steady. After a while he grunted, using almost exactly the same tone that she had. What was he thinking? Could he actually read her thoughts? There was something shared anyway, she was certain, not the detailed plans, but at least the idea of escape and the feelings that went with it. Difficult. Frightening. Necessary.
YEAR TWO,
MONTH TWELVE,
DAY TEN
Living in tension, waiting . . .
Waking—will the chance come today?
Noon, heat, peace in the ravine, the humans below all resting—now?
Not yet.
Dusk, with drenching rain, tree smell and sea smell. Tomorrow . . . ?
Perhaps.
Eva heard the howler while she was still trying to settle herself into her pelt for the day, fingering around, nosing and nibbling under the hairs, the way you did. She was conscious of having slept badly, for once, and now her fur didn’t seem to want to lie down. The others were uneasy too. She could sense a restlessness, a nerviness. They kept glancing up between the leaves, where the clouds moved low and dark and faster than usual. Then she heard the signal, a burst, cut short, and another burst, and a gap, and again . . . urgent.
Lana was giving Wang his morning once-over. Sniff was grooming Herman—he’d had a run-in with Billy yesterday that had ended with Billy chasing him up a tree, so now he’d evidently decided to make a serious alliance with the much less ambitious third male. The others were fidgety, preoccupied. It was no problem to slip away.
She found Dad inside the fence, with the expedition coordinator, Maria, and Diego, who’d headed the advance party and built the enclosure. They were all three looking at the sky. Out here you could really see how low and dark the clouds were and how fast they were traveling. The wind was up too—she hadn’t heard it in the ravine because of the noise of the stream. It was like no wind Eva had ever felt, a huge block of steamy heat moving all together, like the breath out of a mile-wide mouth.
“We’ve got trouble,” said Dad. “There’s a typhoon on the way. It was supposed to pass on the other side of Madagascar, but now it’s swung in.”
“I told ’em,” said Diego.
“Uh?”
“Apparently we’ve got about five hours. It’s too late to evacuate. Maria wants to get the chimps in.”
“I’m getting the crates lifted up,” said Maria. “If you can get the chimps down here, we’ll put some doped fruit out.”