Battle For The Planet Of The Apes by David Gerrold Read Free Book Online Page A

wealth in goods.
    Overlooking the far end of the vault was another control center. This one was more extensive than the one that Kolp had made his headquarters. Méndez, Kolp’s chief lieutenant, used it for coordinating the collection and distribution of supplies. He too was marred by radiation, as were all the mutants living in the levels below the ruins. He was devoted to Kolp, slavishly so; he was happy to play at war, but even happier that there was no enemy to fight.
    “Méndez!” barked Kolp, striding up to him in his control center. “Someone’s breached the warning signal at entry point F-6.”
    Méndez was calm. “Must be one of our scavengers.”
    “No. That entry’s locked. We’ve never used it.”
    Méndez scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “The warning is still operational?”
    Alma nodded eagerly.
    “So it can’t be one of us,” insisted Kolp. “It must be someone else. I want the security forces alerted.”
    “Well,” said Méndez doubtfully. “I don’t know. We ought to check it first. Sir,” he added.
    “Well, then do so!” snapped Kolp, “And quickly!”
    Méndez led them to a set of consoles; here was a bank of still functioning television screens. He leaned across the control panel and began switching them on. One after the other, the monitors blinked alive, flickering with images of the underground corridors and of the blasted city above.
    “Come on,” said Méndez impatiently.
    Méndez began stabbing buttons. The images on the screens began to flicker and change with dizzying rapidity. Then suddenly, abruptly, there was a startlingly close shot of a fierce-looking chimpanzee, a curious orangutan, and a nervous black man, moving cautiously through a dimly lit passage. The image flickered on to another. Kolp almost screamed.
    “No! There! Go back!”
    Méndez reversed the scan. The image of the three reappeared on the soundless monitor.
    “My God!” gasped Kolp.
    “What is it?” asked Alma, Méndez looked at him sharply. Kolp’s face was ashen. “It’s Caesar!”
    “Caesar?”
    “That damned chimpanzee! He’s come back to reconquer the city!”
    “Doesn’t he know that the bombs did that?” Méndez’ voice was edged with bitterness.
    “He must know now . . .” They watched as the two apes and the man moved into a brighter section of corridor.
    “It’s cleaner here,” Virgil was saying. He was referring to the radiation count. He moved slowly ahead of Caesar and MacDonald, watching his meter carefully.
    “Could anything live here?” asked Caesar. “I mean after so long?”
    Virgil was matter of fact in his answer. “Oh, yes. But I don’t think it would be much of a life.” The three moved on slowly, carefully. MacDonald had his machine gun loaded and ready; its muzzle swung back and forth, searching for targets.
    Watching them on the monitors, Kolp wished the microphones were still working. He would have given anything to know what they were talking about.
    “Who are the others?” asked Alma.
    Kolp said angrily, “The black man is the brother of Breck’s personal assistant, the one who helped Caesar escape. It figures—it must run in the blood. Damned traitors! Betrayers of the human race! His name is MacDonald; he used to supervise the general archives. Now he’s helping apes!” He spat the words. After a moment he added, “I don’t know who the orangutan is.”
    Caesar, Virgil, and MacDonald climbed over a sudden pile of rubble where a wall had collapsed, then turned a corner. They stopped in shock. Ahead of them in the tunnel, in the midst of all the dirt and tumbled concrete, were fragments of newspapers, rotting briefcases, bits of old clothing, and bones. Lots of bones. A skull grinned hollowly at them.
    “This isn’t a city,” said Caesar. “It’s a catacomb.” He pushed forward, anyway, taking care to step around the rotting skeletons. Virgil followed. The two apes kept their eyes averted. MacDonald didn’t—he had realized something