4

A path along the edge of the canyon led up to the base of a massive oak tree. Beyond it lay an open grassy area enclosed by a timber wall, and beyond that a high meadow spread along the mountain’s upper flank. From the head of the path, an ape could look down on the village, and even further down to the bridges spanning the canyon and the rushing water below.

The oak marked Caesar’s home, which was built into its branches. Its lower part faced the canyon, overhung by a roof worked into the branches and braced by a timber floor just barely too high for an ape to leap up and grip. Ascending through the tree were other parts of Caesar’s dwelling, but it was to the lower section he ran now, ducking from the path into the tunnel dug among the tree’s roots. He came out of the tunnel and climbed the trunk, then swung around and landed on the floor inside.

All the while the sound of Cornelia’s screams spurred him on.

Other apes followed him. He could hear them in the tree’s branches, too, and see their anxious faces peering through the walls and roof. Many of them were children, running away from Maurice’s lesson to see what this new excitement was about. Now they were frightened by the sound of Cornelia’s pain.

So was Caesar.

His eyes adjusted to the gloom in the deeper part of the room, against the trunk. Cornelia lay on the bed he had made for her, years before when he had selected this tree for his own… and hers. Other female apes surrounded her, stroking her forehead and grooming her hair.

She shrieked, longer and louder than before, the sound digging into Caesar’s ears until he wanted to hit something. He held himself still, watching her bare her teeth and draw another breath to scream again. He was more frightened now than he had been facing the bear. There he had looked an enemy in the eye, but here there was no enemy to fight. She would either survive the birth, or she would not.

Caesar could do nothing.

Cornelia drew a series of whistling breaths. If she knew Caesar was there, she gave no sign. None of the other females looked at him, either. She breathed in more deeply and shrieked one more time, even longer than before. Two of the other females moved to shield her from Caesar’s view.

So they do know I am here, he thought in the midst of his anxiety.

The scream went on, becoming a growl and finally trailing off into shallow panting.

In the sudden quiet Caesar heard a tiny squeak. His heart jumped. He took a step forward as the females parted, and he watched one of them place the tiny newborn on Cornelia’s chest. It was slick and wet, all fingers and toes. She gathered it in and brought it to her breast to nurse. It squeaked again, twice, and then grew quiet as it found the nipple and began to suck.

Caesar took another step. The attending females groomed the blood and fluid out of Cornelia’s fur and cleaned the bed around her. She looked up at him, then down again to the newborn. He approached and settled next to her, stroking her head. When he bent to kiss the tiny newborn, its fingers spread and then clenched into fists again, holding tight to Cornelia’s hair.

From outside came the grunts and hoots of the children. Their light steps pattered back and forth across the roof. He heard the news of the birth relayed through the camp, followed by an outbreak of excited shrieking. Every birth was celebrated.

Movement from the open side of the dwelling made Caesar look up. He saw Blue Eyes, hesitant to enter, and beckoned him in. He came slowly to join them. Cornelia hooted a quiet greeting and smiled at him. His answering smile was nervous and wondering as he saw the newborn. Caesar saw him again for what he was: a child still, and growing into himself. The anger he had felt in the forest left him.

He rested a hand on Blue Eyes’ shoulder. The three of them breathed together, and realized they were breathing in unison with the newborn. They looked at one another, and smiled.

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