Birth of the Planet of the Apes

Fremont's Plan

Malcolm was lucky he still had a watch that worked.

He had been up most of the night pondering what Fremont was going to do and he had lost all track of time completely until the solar clock beeped at him.

He argued with the possibilities during the whole walk over to The Tent that morning. Fremont had said that he was going to send a representative to talk with the apes and hopefully find out about the attack, and though Malcolm was pretty sure what he meant by representative, his gut still couldn't get over the fact that Fremont was possibly keeping something from him. Fremont knew he was the best choice to go look for Caesar, tracker or not, why did the man insist on keeping him out of it? He was the only human, besides maybe Ellie and Alex, that Caesar and the other apes trusted, well, most of the other apes. But Malcolm was sure he would be the only one Caesar would listen to.

What other ideas did Fremont have in mind? The darker part of his mind yelled out 'preemptive strike' but the rest of his mind said that one person couldn't do something like that, or at least he hoped they couldn't. Besides, Fremont had been told about what happened the last time the apes had thought Caesar had been killed by a human, a second time wouldn't turn out any different.

As The Tent came into view, Malcolm clearly took notice of the extra security that had been placed around the perimeter fences. Young soldiers walked in groups of four around the immediate area and the towers had extra eyes making rounds over the streets and buildings. Fremont definitely wanted to make sure an incident like the day before didn't happen again and the thought of it made Malcolm tense.

The hesitation he had to talk to Fremont suddenly weighed him down. His feet wanted to drag in the mud, his arms felt like lead, and the canvas flap of The Tent felt like it was made of hundreds of pounds of leather. Malcolm was sure he wasn't going to enjoy the next few hours and his mood sank ever lower when he managed to get inside.

Fremont was sitting at his desk as per usual in his old army greens, the marks of his rank of lieutenant colonel still shone proud on his uniform even in their faded state. He was focused down on his desk, fingers scratching through his grey whiskers as he flipped through a manila folder.

That was one of the biggest changes Malcolm never liked about the militarization of the colony. Everyone had a file. There wasn't a single person coming in or out of the gates that didn't have their whole life's story written down for Fremont to look over. Malcolm guessed it was to ensure that every member of the colony was accounted for and doing their part, like if someone had engineering in their background they would be put on structure or building duties, but the loss of any kind of real privacy was something most average citizens protested about.

Fremont looked up at Malcolm from the file and smiled, "Looks like you got about as much sleep as I did."

Malcolm couldn't hide the small narrowing of his eyes, "Doubt it was for the same reasons."

Fremont sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "I understand how you feel, Malcolm, I really do, but you have to understand where I'm coming from. Most people here trust you, but there're those few who think you'd side with the apes if given the chance."

Considering he basically did take their side under the tower with Dreyfus, Malcolm wasn't too surprised. Still, to have other humans think he would turn traitor on his own kind was frustrating to say the least.

Fremont must have seen the emotions run across his face for he sighed and shook his head, "I trust that you'd do what's best for both sides, but I have to try and satisfy as many as I can. In this decision, I've chosen to go as neutral as possible. She should work out well for us if everything goes as planned."

Malcolm eyes shot up, flabbergasted, "She?"

Fremont motioned to the chair in front of his desk and turned the folder to face Malcolm. Hesitantly, Malcolm took his spot in the chair and read.

Riley Eleanor Wilson

- Date of birth: January 28, 2007

- Hometown: Santa Cruz, California

- Race: Caucasian

- Eyes: brown

- Hair: brown

- Height: 5ft 2in

- Weight: 126 lbs

- Occupation before Simian Flu: none, child of 12, flu status - immune

- Family: Roger Wade Wilson, father, 51, survivalist, killed in 2025 ape attack; Lindsey Groves Wilson, mother, 47, professional rock climber, killed in 2025 ape attack; Davis Lincoln Wilson, younger brother, 14, killed in 2025 ape attack...

Malcolm couldn't read any further. He closed the folder and gave Fremont a blank stare. "All I see here, Greg, is a kid who just had their entire family killed by apes. If this is your idea of a neutral party then we must be reading different folders."

"I know how this must look Malcolm..."

"It's exactly how it looks!" Malcolm blew out. He wasn't used to yelling and instantly backed himself down, "You told me that your negotiator would be neutral, would be able to track them down to their home, would be..."

"And she will," Fremont interjected, too calm for comfort, "If you'd finished reading her file then you'd see that."

Malcolm sat back into his chair, not remembering when he stood up. He didn't look back down at the folder but pushed it back to Fremont instead, "Those three lines told me enough."

"I see we're not going to agree here," Fremont leaned over on his desk, lacing his fingers together, "Luckily for me this is my decision and I've already made it. The girl was trained by her father in survivalist tactics, a skill she's actually taught to my poor excuses for soldiers quite well. Her mother was a professional rock climber. At age nine Miss Wilson was setting many climbing records before the Simian Flu outbreak, so again, this skill can help her get to many places we old men cannot. And lastly..." he held up his hand to stop Malcolm's protest, "...she's female. This fact, if I'm correct in guessing, could help her stay alive throughout negotiations. She's willing to take on this task and I'm willing to take the risk."

"She'll be biased," Malcolm said through a downturned face.

"She's assured me she will not," Fremont was still too calm.

Malcolm tried to gather thoughts together to fix this situation. Fremont was willing to send a child into the wilds alone, to not only find the apes, but to negotiate with the same ones who had killed her family. Year old wounds like that didn't just heal and were forgotten, they were scars that you had to look at the rest of your life. A kid of her age wouldn't easily forgive. Unfortunately, as the colonel had said, the decision was already made.

Knowing well that Fremont's plan was going to blow up in his face, Malcolm sighed and looked up at the colonel, "I'd like to speak with her. Maybe I can give her some advice that could help when she meets Caesar and the others."

Fremont nodded, "Good," He stood up and walked past him to the tent flap, "She's waiting in the lobby of the Hotel Drisco for you. The plan is for her to leave in the morning. A day and a half is a long time to wait to follow tracks, but she said it shouldn't be too difficult."

Malcolm nodded and got up to leave through the opened flap. When he reached the exit though, he stopped and gave Fremont a pleading but determined look, "Is there any way I can convince you to let one of us – Ellie, Alex, or I – go with her? There's only so much I can tell her."

Fremont gave a stern huff through his whiskers, "My decision is final, Malcolm...but...I'll think about it."

Malcolm felt light return to his eyes, "Thank you, sir."

All Fremont gave was curt nod and a closed smile as Malcolm left the room.