Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: The Official Movie Novelization (6 page)

The lower twenty floors or so had flooring, and had been turned into housing for the few thousand people who, for all they knew, were the last surviving humans on earth. The bottom six floors occupied the entire block, and enclosed what had been envisioned as an upscale mall and luxury office complex.

Dreyfus had chosen the location carefully. The triple arch of the building’s main gateway was easily defended, and other entrances had been blocked for years. At first they had built defenses against gangs and loose militias that had ravaged the city during the plague’s first years. As time went on and more and more people died, however, many of those marauders “came in from the cold,” as it were, joining what came to be called the Colony.

Now they all had to stick together.

Part of the mall was open to the air. Its roof had fallen in during the earthquake and they had never had the resources to spare for repairs.

An open area on the other side of the building had once offered parking and delivery space. The Colony’s mechanics and engineers had taken it over, and their meager supplies of fuel were stored there. Long lines for fuel were a fact of life. There was very little of it, and as the years passed, they were able to find less and less in sealed tanks throughout the city. Much of what they
did
find went to power the generators that gave the interior of the Colony power for a few hours a day.

Inside the ground floor of the Colony, where there were supposed to be salons charging sixty bucks for a haircut next to boutique clothing stores and gelato stands, they had established a bazaar where time was the only currency, and barter was the general rule. Every morning, groups went out into the city, ranging as far as they could while making certain they could return to the Colony by nightfall. Occasionally Dreyfus authorized longer expeditions, but some of those didn’t come back.

There were animals. There were accidents. What they
didn’t
have, Malcolm thought, was enough people.

A broad outdoor staircase led from the entrance to street level. Barricades and sentry platforms lined it and covered two of the three openings. The third had a reinforced gate. It had been a while since they needed to hold the Colony against any violence, but Dreyfus insisted they maintain the defensive measures. He called it—to anyone within earshot—a “better-safe-than-sorry” approach to the security of the Colony.

“You never know what’s coming,” he told everyone. “We can’t assume we’re the only ones left, and we can’t assume the next people we see will be friendly.”

Assume nothing… but if you’re going to assume something, assume the worst. That was Dreyfus.

* * *

They got out of the trucks and headed in. On the way, Malcolm dropped a hand on Alexander’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, noting his son’s morose demeanor. “I’m sorry you lost your bag back there.”

Alexander shrugged. That was his response to lots of things lately. Malcolm tried not to let it get to him. Fifteen was a tough age, even when you hadn’t grown up during the collapse of human civilization.

“You okay?” Ellie asked on his other side.

Alexander nodded after a moment. Malcolm focused on that moment. His son wouldn’t have given it to him. Ellie could get through to the boy, even though she wasn’t his mother. She made no effort to replace Malcolm’s mother. She was just there. She had made a point of being there until he trusted her. Also, she was a better listener than Malcolm, which meant she picked up on things he didn’t.

Right now, however, he exchanged a look with her and saw that they were both thinking the same thing. Behind Alexander’s hesitation was something that they all would have to talk about sooner rather than later. Call it fatherly instinct, call it something else, he knew something was on his son’s mind… and he had a suspicion that it had to do with the apes.

Alexander seemed on the verge of opening up to Ellie, but he never got the chance because Foster jumped out of the second truck and came storming over to Malcolm.

“Hey, man, I just talked to Carver,” he said. “We’re not gonna tell anybody what happened up there?”

“Not yet,” Malcolm said. “Dreyfus has a plan. We need to stick to it. That’s what’s gotten us this far.”

Foster shook his head. Malcolm could already see him lining up with Carver and Kemp, who would want to go right out and slaughter the apes. Malcolm had no problem with eliminating the apes, if they were going to be hostile—but that wasn’t what had happened. If anything, Carver’s itchy trigger finger had set things off. Maybe it was up to the humans to make sure tension didn’t escalate.

“Foster,” Malcolm said. “This isn’t the time to go off half-cocked. We need the dam working. That’s more important than anything else. Right?”

“Right,” Foster said, but it took him longer than Malcolm would have liked. Then he walked off to rejoin Carver and Kemp.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Ellie asked as they watched him go.

“I hope not,” Malcolm said.

“Maybe we should tell Dreyfus,” she said.

“I think he already understands that he needs to keep an eye on Carver,” Malcolm replied.

“Maybe, but you should tell him anyway,” Ellie said.

Malcolm nodded. “I will. But let’s get inside. Whatever happens, it isn’t going to happen today.”

From the highest floor of a building, across an open plaza from the human camp, Koba, Grey, and Stone watched the humans until the sun was level with the top of the bridge towers. During that time, Koba saw them recovering fuel for their trucks. He saw them making food, and trading cloth for pieces of machinery. He saw them argue, waving their arms and shouting.

It was remarkable, he thought, how much they looked like apes. Sometimes.

It looked to Koba as if they all lived inside the big building whose bones reached toward the sky. There were… he counted windows. If each was a room, the building could hold more humans than there were apes in their village.

They had machines that used gasoline to make electricity. Apes could make use of those. He saw trucks come and go. Stone followed one of them far enough to come back and tell Koba that it had gone to the boxy building by the bridge. Other humans were there. Stone did not know what they were doing.

It was time to return to Caesar, and tell him what they had seen.

And soon it would be time for war.

* * *

It was evening by the time they reached the village. Caesar and Maurice and Luca the gorilla—along with several other veterans who formed Caesar’s council—stood and sat before the large stone wall inscribed with the laws. Koba joined the group, as was his right. He, too, had fought with Caesar from the beginning. Grey and Stone waited nearby, watching from the main body of apes. As he approached Caesar, Koba saw that they were looking at him.

The bag dropped by the young male human lay open on the ground, its contents scattered in front of the ape leader. Koba recognized some of the things he saw. There were thin books full of pictures, with few words. He could not remember the word for them. Maybe he had never known it. There were pencils in different colors. He had used pencils like that before, long ago, when he still trusted humans. They were used to draw.

The young human had made many pictures in another book. Maurice turned the pages, seeing drawing after drawing. He held the book so that the apes nearby could see the drawings.

Koba moved closer to get a look.

In one of the pictures, houses were burning. Human figures ran from the fire. Other humans with guns chased them. The boy had drawn much blood. In another, buildings fell and humans ran in the street. In another, humans hid behind a wall that had monstrous shapes lurking on the other side. In yet another, rows of dead humans lay in the street in front of a building with a large red plus sign. This made Koba remember when a human had taught him to count.

In another, a dead human woman lay with light shining through a window, and onto her face. Around her stood other humans with masks over their faces.

The watching apes were jumpy, shoving and signing at each other in their nervousness. Koba had to remind himself that many of them had never seen a human… and all of them, including himself, had believed they were gone. The pictures told a story that none of them had heard before.

He saw now that the human survivors had suffered. And he knew that if they all felt the boy’s fear, they would be dangerous.

Maurice was fascinated by the images. He turned through the pages several times.
The plague almost ended them
, he signed.
The boy told the story in pictures
.

Koba grunted to get their attention. Both Maurice and Caesar looked to him.

We must attack them now!
he signed angrily.
Before they attack us!

Maurice set the book down and signed back.

We don’t know how many there are
, he said.
How many guns they have.

Luca, who spoke rarely, added another question.

Or why they came up here.

Questions, questions
, Koba thought. He had answers, but not for all the apes—not yet. Caesar had to hear them first.

He tried to catch Caesar’s eye, to let him know that they needed to talk, and alone. Before he could do so, however, Caesar picked up the book. Something stuck out between two of the pages. Caesar opened the book there and a picture fell out. It showed a woman and a small boy.

Koba guessed the story. The boy who had made the drawings had a picture of his mother. His mother had died of the sickness. On the page marked by the picture was a drawing of the same woman. Koba saw the resemblance between her and the dead woman on another one of the book’s pages. The one who lay in the light.

His mother…

He looked back to Caesar, and saw that Caesar was staring at the drawing. He looked sad, as if the human’s story meant something to him.

Enough of this
, Koba thought.
Are we going to be sad for humans, who caged us and cut us and killed us?
Koba would not. He signed angrily.

Look what they did to Rocket’s son!
He turned to Rocket, who squatted at the edge of the council group.
Don’t you want to fight?

Now all eyes turned to Rocket, who shifted on his feet, as if he was considering how to reply. Koba saw his anger, and saw him contain it. He raised his hands, paused, and then signed.

I want what Caesar wants.
A murmur swept through the assembled apes. Many of them signed their agreement.

No!
Koba thought.
You have not seen them! Caesar has not seen them. We must act, or
they
will.
But he said none of this. It was not the time to challenge Caesar, and Koba did not want that challenge at all. What he wanted was for Caesar to see the truth. But instead of signing, he clenched his fists, and clamped his mouth shut instead of speaking.

Then Blue Eyes, standing at his father’s side, stood and spoke out loud.

“Koba… right!”

Silence fell in the village. Caesar’s own son, lining up against his father—and standing with Koba? They were stunned. Every ape assembled saw Caesar turn away from the book, saw the anger on his face.

Blue Eyes saw it too, but he did not stop.

Humans tried to kill Ash
, he signed.
They—

“Enough!” Caesar growled. Again silence fell. For a long moment Blue Eyes held his father’s gaze, stubborn and angry. Then he lowered his head and stopped signing. Koba, amazed at this show of rebellion, took a new view of the young one. He had a strength Koba had not seen before, together with anger toward his father. Koba would not rebel openly, but Blue Eyes had. It would not be the last time, Koba thought… and within him a small flame began to burn.

If Caesar could not control his own son, perhaps he was not fit to control the apes.

Just as quickly as he had the thought, Koba banished it.
Apes together strong
. He believed those words. Now, of all times, there could be no arguing. The human problem had to be solved first… and to do that, apes had to act together. Koba would not be the ape who broke them apart.

Caesar turned to look at the faces of his council, gathered around him. He signed carefully, slowly, making sure every ape in the village understood.

If we go to war, we could lose everything we’ve built. Our homes, our families… Our future
.

He stood, looked from face to face, and Koba saw fear among the apes. They needed Caesar to lead them, and they would follow where he led. Still, they also needed a decision they could believe in.

I will let you know my decision
, Caesar signed, and with that he walked away. Koba watched him go, and watched the other apes watching Caesar. They would not be able to wait for long. But they would have to wait at least a little time. Big decisions could not be made in a hurry. Koba understood this.

He also understood that Caesar did not yet know how great the human threat might be. He, Grey, and Stone had not yet had a chance to tell him. Now was the time, when the report would have the most effect on Caesar’s decision. Koba believed in Caesar… but he also believed in himself. Caesar had not suffered at human hands the way Koba had. He needed Koba with him constantly, to remind him that for every generous human, there were ten cruel ones. Or a hundred. A thousand.

He gave Caesar a moment to get clear of the gathering. Then he followed, slowly, thinking of what to say and the best way to say it.

* * *

Caesar had too much in his head. It was hard enough to think of humans, spreading from the city again, crossing paths with apes and bringing their guns and their science.

He walked alone up the path to the great tree where he and Cornelia made their home. He climbed into the lower branches, then swung himself higher, as if he would think more clearly the closer he got to the stars.

From below he heard his name. He looked down and saw Koba, who bowed and held his head low, peering up from below his brow. Caesar gestured for Koba to join him. He asked for no obeisance, but Koba’s approach was humble, anyway. It was difficult, being leader of apes like Koba. Caesar knew he hated humans, and knew that he would resist any effort to live with them—or even
near
them. He had good reasons. Humans had taken his eye, and crushed out of him any belief in kindness.