One step forward.
Then another.
And another...
My feet dragged on in slow motion towards the cage, my ears hardly believing what they'd heard.
I stopped a few inches in front of the cage, hardly daring to close in the distance anymore than I already had.
"...Koba?" I asked, trying my best to keep my voice steady, which was a hard task to pull off when you just heard an ape speak. I'd already heard Caesar talk, of course, but this was different. This particular ape hadn't been exposed to any kind of virus that I knew of yet, so how did he know how to talk? Why couldn't Maurice talk, too?
No answer...complete silence. Not even the other apes were making any noise. It turned out that they were still awake and alert, cowering under my presence.
"...Koba?" I asked again, heart pounding in my ears like no tomorrow. Tomorrow...I only had tomorrow left, and then Jacobs would approve official testing for the 113 that I'd managed to stop for now. If I didn't come through with any 'research,' I'd be fired and that would be that—they would proceed without me and the human race would be done for...all because of me.
Still no response. Koba himself sat inside his cage behind the glass, his one-eyed glare digging into my very soul. If looks could kill...
"I know you can talk," I told him, done with the silent treatment. "I just heard you."
He was testing me—that had to be it. Either that, or I was finally going crazy like Jacobs thought I was already. The bonobo's expression remained hard and unreadable, until I noticed that he seemed to be staring at my pocket where I'd put the capsule filled with 113. Reaching into my pocket I brought it out, and Koba's single good eye followed my movements as I waved it back and forth like I was teasing a dog with a treat.
It was strange and frightening at the same time, as if I was holding the fate of the entire world in my hands. It looked like Koba understood, but he wasn't about to give in and admit that he was more aware of the issue than he was letting on.
"Alright, have it your way," I said with a sigh, shrugging and putting the capsule back into my pocket.
One foot forward and then another until I was nearly out of the lab...
"I remember you," the same, haunting voice that had spoken finally made itself known again. A shiver swept down my spine, and I turned back around to face the ape capable of talking. It just wasn't possible...
Koba lifted his arm towards me, my heart skipping a beat. "You and your human work. Strapped to table...human work failed."
"I had the craziest dream last night that my mask got knocked off and I was exposed," Franklin's recollection came rushing back. It hadn't been a dream at all, had it? It was real. It was what happened in the future—what had started the entire epidemic. Franklin was somehow subconsciously remembering the accident, like Maurice could remember bits and pieces of the future. The revelation only made me more anxious to convince Jacobs that there couldn't be anymore tests.
My chest tightened, throat becoming dry. So Koba really was the ape I'd chosen to test the 113.
"When Koba woke here again...was very confused. But now Koba sees...he's been given another chance to make things right."
To make things right for who? Was he considering changing from the ape that Caesar had warned me of, or did he see being sent back into the past as an opportunity to change things for the worst for the humans who made his life a living hell? I was definitely leaning more towards the second, but I was almost willing to give him the benefit of the doubt...
"Caesar warned me about you," I told him, unable to tear my gaze away from his mesmerizing, cloudy eye. He stiffened at the mention of Caesar, but managed to keep himself together and hide any hate or distrust towards the ape that he must have been feeling.
"Caesar wrong," he whispered in a growl that he was trying his hardest to hold back. "Koba does not deserve to be trapped here again. New ape. Not like before..." he said slowly as if to help convince me that this was indeed the case. "Want out."
Did he really think he was in a position to make demands right now?
"So you've changed?" I questioned, daring to take another step closer to the cage. "How can I believe that if you weren't able to change in the future?"
A pause as he thought of the best possible answer, his freedom relying on every word.
"The future is the past...do not understand how time works. Confusing. But Koba understands second chances."
I let out a sigh, raising a hand to rub down my face. Ever since Caesar had warned me about this ape, I'd been bracing myself for the day when I would finally meet him, and now that day was here. If this really was the ape who was going to start a war in the future, then he was going to ruin everything if I even considered releasing him with the other apes. He'd find a way to change the future in his favor, and I couldn't allow that to happen. My original 'Koba Plan' after giving it some thought had been to just leave him here in the lab, where he would be watched twenty-four seven without having to worry about doing anything extreme, such as taking his life.
"You can trust me," Koba stated in a whisper that was all too friendly—too fake.
"Do you trust me?" Caesar questioned.
"Of course I do," I answered just as swiftly as he had asked.
I trusted Caesar, and Caesar told me that Koba couldn't be trusted. I wasn't going to take any chances, starting to turn around and back away.
"He killed me..." the bonobo's voice just barely dragged me out of my thoughts too deep to escape from, turning around again and stepping closer once more.
Who killed him? Caesar? The statement surprised me. Caesar was anything but a killer—yes, he'd attacked our neighbor, but only because he'd been protecting dad. It was like when Bright Eyes had protected her baby; apes were very protective of their young, and I'm sure Caesar must have been very protective of his family in the future.
"Why did he kill you?" I asked softly, though I already knew the answer.
Maybe because you started a war between apes and humans that never should have happened.
Koba's single, non-cloudy eye blinked and he leaned closer to the window of his cage, his breath staining the glass.
"What made ape smart...also made ape crazy," he warned, his voice dark and cold.
My breathing hitched at his words, and my hand traveled down to my coat pocket again, feeling for the 113. What did he mean...that the upgraded virus had caused apes to go crazy in the future? Had Caesar himself gone crazy because he'd been exposed to the new virus, not just the 112?
"Ape not kill ape..." Koba's tone switched from dark to an odd kind of sadness in less than a second flat, only increasing my wariness. "But many apes were killed under his command," he continued, his voice switching just as quick to anger. "Caesar saw I was different from others affected. He beat me close to death...dropped me from a great height..." Koba's eye closed as he remembered, but then it opened just as quick like he was determined not to let the memory get to him.
Had I gotten it all wrong, and Caesar had been delusional during his last moments? Was Maurice going to go crazy if I ended up giving him the virus, not to mention all the apes at the sanctuary? Was it why Caesar had killed Koba in the first place, because no matter how innocent he claimed he'd been, he'd gotten out of control enough to start an entire war?
My nose tickled suddenly and I fought off the urge to sneeze, an odd sense of Déjà vu sweeping over me.
What Koba didn't know was that I'd seen Caesar just before his death, and he'd seemed completely fine then before his arrow wound from the future had returned. Thanks to Caesar's warning, I'd already known to steer clear of the ape who had started a war. I picked up instantly on the fact that Koba was telling anything but the truth, simply allowing him to spill his lies; they weren't going to get him anywhere. I decided to entertain him for the time being, anyway. Maybe I could get some more information about the future, however unreliable it was. Maybe I didn't have to use the 113 on Maurice. Maybe if Koba really had changed and was willing, he could be the one to help me convince Jacobs that the experiments were all wrong and needed to be stopped...
"Humans wanted peace, but Caesar wanted war. Koba tried stopping war, but failed. Bloodshed..."
I come from the future. A world where the virus has attacked human intelligence so their minds turn into that of animals, Caesar's voice echoed. I needed more answers, but maybe the answer had been in front of me all along, and Koba was painting a picture of the exact opposite of the virus' effects on humans. He was making it seem like instead of the humans becoming sick, they were the ones who had wanted peace, and the apes were the ones who wanted war, the virus causing them to become crazed like...animals. The humans had become sick, yes...but not because of the apes themselves. Koba was trying his hardest to make it seem like it was all on the apes, but it was because of the virus that rested inside them that humans created—a virus that affected one species in a certain way, but not the other.
He pointed to himself. My head throbbed and I had to reach an arm up to hold it, a flash of red clouding my vision.
Who should I trust...Maurice or Koba? The answer was obvious and his words faded into the background, a million questions bombarding my aching brain. How did he supposedly remember everything when Maurice only remembered a little? How was he talking when Maurice couldn't remember how to talk, or was it only because the virus helped improve the apes' vocal chords later on? Was he still exposed to the 113? But that wasn't possible; we hadn't done any tests on him yet. I eventually came to the conclusion that time travel affected different apes in different ways, and Koba was (unfortunately) the lucky one to keep his intelligence. But none of that really mattered; what mattered was that I had to give Koba a chance to redeem himself, to tell the truth and help change things for the better...to let me know that I could trust him.
"He hated you."
My head shot back up at the three, cruel words. Maybe redemption, especially trust was a little too far off... I couldn't tell at this point if Koba was grinning or snarling, but I kept my gaze locked onto him, determined not to show any fear.
"Caesar," he continued harshly. "For everything you did. You are the human that made him fall apart...made him love humans more than apes..."
I honestly wouldn't blame him if he did. He had every reason to hate me after what I'd put him through. The way I'd treated him like nothing but a pet even though I'd told him he wasn't, my amazement over his intelligence too great and not thinking of the ape behind the intelligence. The shelter, the abuse that followed after abandoning him when I'd had no other choice but to leave him in that horrible place; the very same place where Maurice was suffering inside once again. But then Caesar's words before his passing came flowing back.
You are my home. From day one.
It was just another one of Koba's lies. I may have made a lot of mistakes with Caesar, but I had comfort in knowing that he didn't hate me, at least.
"He stopped me from attacking you. In woods. Koba regrets letting you go that day..."
What woods? The Muir Woods where we'd let Caesar play? Had the apes escaped and claimed it as their new home? Another flash catapulted into me unexpectedly, and an ape strikingly similar to Koba...or was it Koba?...slammed me into the ground from above, only to have Caesar stop his proposed attack and lift me to my feet. Trying to convince him to come back home, but then saying our goodbyes...
"Koba," I interrupted in a pitiful attempt to stop the sudden migraine. His good eye landed on me the moment I spoke, annoyance crossing his features that I hadn't let him continue speaking. "Can we make a deal?"
He shifted uncomfortably in his tiny space. "What kind of...deal?"
It was crazy, possibly even more crazy than thinking of giving the 113 to Maurice and the others. But I'd promised Caesar that I would free the apes both here and at the sanctuary—Koba included—if I could just get him to change, to see that with where we were now, everything could change—and change for the better. Then maybe, just maybe, I could free him along with those who deserved to be freed.
"If I let you out," I said slowly, choosing my words wisely. I was going to make him stop the lies and exaggerations so I would know for certain that he could be trusted..."Will you help me convince everyone that the virus is dangerous for humans?"
Koba fell deadly silent, a silence so deafening that my ears began to ring. I could tell that I'd struck a nerve.
"Virus very dangerous for humans, yes..." Koba agreed, nodding towards the capsule hidden in my pocket. "Did not make apes dangerous. Did not make apes kill humans."
I had no warning, my heart stopping when Koba's arm shot out of his slot to grab me by the neck. I hadn't thought I'd been close enough for it to even happen, but it was all I could do to just hope that he wouldn't snap my neck then and there. No one else was in the lab at this late hour, so unlike the Bright Eyes incident, there wasn't anyone who would be able to save me. But it seemed that Koba just wanted to make a point, gripping my neck tighter and tighter until I could hardly breathe, his hot breath scalding my skin through the glass cage.
I squeezed my eyes shut, and he whispered his poison into my ears.
"Koba tells you truth," he spat. "Some apes kill humans on their own without virus help. Apes better than humans—smarter. Humans stupid. Never. Help. You!"
It was like he didn't realize that he just contradicted everything he'd said, confirming all of his lies—which was exactly what I wanted. I'd given him a chance, and he hadn't taken it. Instead of letting himself go, allowing himself to change...he was still stuck in his ways from the future. Now I knew for sure that no matter what, he had to stay where he was.
I peeked open one eye and then the other, staring straight back into his tortured soul.
"You're wrong," I said firmly enough to make Koba stop and actually listen, his grip on my neck lessening. It was all I needed to pull away sharply, causing him to fall back into his prison. The first thing I did upon release was feel in my pocket for the capsule, and I sighed in relief when I found that the 113 was still safe and sound. "We've been given a second chance. We can both live...together. It's what Caesar wanted."
Koba flinched at the all-too familiar name, growling and baring his teeth. "Wanted..." he hissed the past tense word. "Caesar gone? Why do anything Caesar wants?"
I closed my eyes again, picturing a world where hate didn't exist. Where humans and animals were equally important—a better future that could start with the apes. I opened my eyes a second time, giving Koba a look that told him my mind was made up and there was nothing he could do about it.
"Because I made a promise...and I'm going to keep it."
"Koba given second chance. War will begin again...no Caesar to stop me this time," he growled, his own hate overwhelming and getting the better of him. "Humans get sick again...apes get smart again."
"Do not test the virus again on Koba. The human race will pay a heavy price," Caesar's voice echoed again.
The virus that makes apes smart, I remembered explaining to Maurice. But makes humans sick...makes apes smart...but makes humans sick...what if there was a way for the virus to make apes smart, but not make humans sick?
It hit me like a pile of bricks, punching me in the gut so hard my breath was knocked out of me.
The 112. Of course! Why didn't I think of that before?! The 113 was deadly to humans. But the 112 was harmless, only causing the immune system to reject the cure, which had pushed me to create a more aggressive virus strain—a strain that was going to be the end of humans if I risked exposing Maurice. Maybe if I gave him and the other apes the 112 instead...
It was absolutely perfect. The 112 was what had originally made Caesar so smart after his mother passed it down—it had the same effects on apes as the 113, right? It would help Maurice remember everything and tell us the truth, all while protecting humans from its stronger virus strain with fatal side effects.
"Koba, you're a genius!" I couldn't help but shout into the otherwise empty lab, newfound hope rising and a laugh sounding that was unable to be held in.
He scowled at my joy, his one good eye narrowing and his scarred face transforming into a fit of rage as he realized that he'd been more of a help than he intended—that his true intentions had been revealed.
"Koba told you truth. Now let Koba out. You keep his promise," the bonobo demanded, reality beginning to sink in that maybe I wasn't going to let him out at all.
One thing I was sure of was that he could not be let out under any circumstances.
"I'm sorry, Koba," I apologized genuinely. I felt sorry for him. I really did. "But some promises just can't be kept."
I ignored the piercing screams he fell into, rushing out of the lab to my personal workspace and gathering all the research and data I could find about the first version of the 113. The only catch was that besides current (as old as it was) research about the virus, I had to start from scratch. I'd used up all the 112 treatment that I'd been giving my father over the past five years, and the lab had eventually destroyed what little was left, Jacobs determined to get rid of the failed experiment until there was no trace of it left to give the company a bad name.
"Filthy, dirty human! Never trick Koba!" He screeched so loudly that my ears almost popped. If he wasn't careful, someone was going to hear him if they just so happened to walk into the lab—then that would be just another reason to do more experiments on him. "Going to find a way out! Koba will kill again! All of you!"
His threats weren't too serious. He was contained in a small, glass cage where there wasn't much he could do to try and escape under constant supervision.
Maybe this whole thing was going to work out, after all. Maybe I didn't have to lie to Maurice. Maybe all the apes could regain their intelligence, and it was all thanks to the one ape who had started a war—who had intended for the same war to start again, but had unintentionally given me a much better idea to save the future and stop that from happening.
But I had to hurry. I only had until tomorrow morning to redevelop the 112—just enough to give to Maurice. I could worry about the others later.
I called Caroline to explain everything and she understood, listening to the details and agreeing to help with my new plan that had formed so unexpectedly—thanks to Koba of all apes. She said that dad was still hanging on, which only fueled my determination. What would only make this all even better would be if Jacobs saw the good the 112 could do to apes, reversing his stance ever since the Bright Eyes incident, and then curing Alzheimer's with the miracle drug if we found a way to make it possible. But I knew that it was a fool's wish, that it was something I shouldn't try to mess with any more than I already had. Things were finally beginning to look up for both humans and apes alike.
It was too good to be true...
I sneezed, thinking nothing else of it as I began to push myself tirelessly through the night.
Koba never stopped screaming.
