“We’re not aiming for anything,” Sullivan said. “That’s up to the judge. But like I said, I think a ‘needs more study’ ruling is the one where everyone here wins. Isabel, you win because not having evidence of the fuzzys speaking isn’t as problematic as it would be with a full SSR court case. At least xenosapient experts would come to make a determination one way or another. Jack, you win because one way or another, you’ll get paid. Maybe you won’t get billions out of the sunstone seam, but you’ll get millions, and I think you can live with that.” “Probably,” Holloway said.
“ZaraCorp wins because it does everything by the book, so no one anywhere can object,” Sullivan said. “Even if it does have to abandon Zara Twenty-three, the company has time to build the news into its stock price. No huge fluctuations, no major panics, and no surprises, which corporations hate most of all. And as for the fuzzys—” All three humans looked over at the fuzzys. Four of them were napping on the floor. The fifth, Pinto, had climbed up on the work desk and was leaning over the edge. Suddenly the fuzzy squeaked and flung itself off the desk, landing directly on Grandpa Fuzzy’s head. Grandpa Fuzzy (who Holloway realized was not actually a grandpa at all, but it really was too late to change names now) let out a surprised grunt and then went after Pinto, smacking the younger fuzzy in the head as they ran about. Carl, thrilled that something was going on, gave chase as well. Three seconds later all the fuzzys were running about like idiots, slapping each other like it was a scene out of a fur-bearing slapstick.
“—at least they’ll get a chance to prove they’re people,” Sullivan finished. He waved in the direction of the Fuzzys. “Although I’ve got to tell you, Isabel, this is not exactly convincing me you’ve got a bunch of geniuses here.” “Well,” Isabel said, mildly, “I think you’re underestimating the crack comedy timing involved.” “I don’t think so,” Sullivan said.
“I have to agree with Isabel,” Holloway said. “This is better than the Three Stooges.” “Fair point,” Sullivan said.
“The three who?” Isabel asked.
The men looked at her with a mixture of horror and pity.
On the floor of the cabin, the Fuzzys and Carl collapsed in exhaustion.
Chapter Fourteen
Isabel and Sullivan returned to Aubreytown later that evening, Sullivan jammed uncomfortably into the skimmer’s small passenger seat, which he shared with Isabel’s samples, notes, and remaining supplies. Holloway saw them off and noticed the Fuzzy Family did not seem horribly put out at their leaving. Either the creatures were not terribly sentimental or they simply were of the “out of sight, out of mind” variety. Carl seemed depressed Isabel was gone, however, and moped about. Not even Pinto tugging on his ears or Baby snuggling up to him cheered him up.
Three days later Holloway received a secure, confirmation-required notice that he was expected to appear at an inquiry in Aubreytown in eight days, to give testimony concerning the “fuzzys.” Holloway smiled. Isabel had indeed wasted no time getting the ball rolling.
A few minutes after he had received his summons, Chad Bourne was on the line. “You’re trying to get me fired, aren’t you,” he said, without preamble, when Holloway slapped open the voice-only circuit.
“Hello to you, too,” Holloway said. He was having his morning coffee. Papa Fuzzy, who Holloway knew was not in fact a papa, was sniffing curiously at the stuff in his cup.
“Cut the crap, Holloway,” Bourne said. “Why didn’t you tell me about these things?”
“You’re referring to the fuzzys,” Holloway said.
“Yes,” Bourne said.
“Why would I tell you about them?” Holloway said. “Do you want detailed reports on every animal I encounter? I live in a jungle, you know.”
“I don’t want reports on every single animal, no,” Bourne said. “However, a report on animals that might get all of us kicked off the planet because they’re this world’s equivalent of cavemen might be nice.”
“They’re not cavemen,” Holloway said. “They live in trees. Or did, until they colonized my house.” Holloway pushed the cup toward Papa, to let the fuzzy try the beverage.
“Jack Holloway, master of the absolutely irrelevant objection,” Bourne said.
“And anyway, they’re not people, which is why I didn’t bother telling you about them,” Holloway said. “They’re just very clever little animals.”
“Our staff biologist thinks otherwise,” Bourne said. “And no offense, Jack, but it’s possible she knows more about the subject than you.”
“Your staff biologist is very excited about a major discovery,” Holloway said, watching Papa sniff the coffee in greater detail. “And while she’s a biologist, she’s not actually an expert in xenosapience. Her having an opinion about whether the fuzzys are people is like a podiatrist having an opinion on whether you need your liver replaced.”
“Wheaton Aubrey doesn’t seem to have the same opinion,” Bourne said. “And you didn’t just have the future chairman of ZaraCorp stalking into your cubicle and screaming at you for ten minutes because one of your surveyors didn’t bother to tell you about discovering sentient life. I was already on his shit list for giving you point-four percent. Now I think I’m on his list of people to have assassinated.”
“Trust me, Chad,” Holloway said. “They’re not sentient.” Papa ducked its head and took a hesitant sip of the coffee.
“Are you sure about that?” Bourne asked.
Papa spit out the coffee and fixed Holloway with a look that said, There’s something wrong with you.
“Yeah,” Holloway said. “I’m pretty sure about that.” He picked up his coffee and took another sip.
“I want to come out and see these things for myself,” Bourne said.
“What?” Holloway said. “No way.”
“Why not?” Bourne asked.
“Well, for one thing, Chad, unless you’ve been holding out on me, you’re not an expert in either biology or xenosapience,” Holloway said. “Which means you’re just coming out to stare at the things. I’m not running a zoo here. For another thing, I don’t really want to spend that much time with you.”
“I can certainly appreciate that, Jack, but you don’t have much choice in the matter,” Bourne said. “Per your contract, as your ZaraCorp contractor rep I am allowed and in some circumstances even required to perform an on-site inspection to make sure your equipment and practices conform to ZaraCorp regulations. So, guess what, I’m coming out. I’ll be there in about six hours.”
“Lovely,” Holloway said.
“I’m as excited as you are,” Bourne said. “Trust me.” He broke the connection.
Holloway gazed down at Papa Fuzzy. “If I knew you were going to be this much trouble, I would have let Carl eat you that day.”
Papa Fuzzy stared back up at Holloway, unimpressed.
*
Bourne didn’t come alone.
“If he steps out of that skimmer I’m throwing him over the side,” Holloway said, pointing at Joe DeLise, who sat in the front passenger seat of the four-seat skimmer that had just landed at Holloway’s compound.
Wheaton Aubrey VII, stepping out of the back passenger compartment with Brad Landon, was taken aback. “Is there a problem?” he asked.
“Yes,” Holloway said. “I hate his guts.”
“I don’t think you like anyone in this skimmer, Holloway,” Aubrey said. “It’s not in itself a good enough reason to keep Mr. DeLise in his seat. I brought him because by company regulation I’m supposed to have a security detail when I leave Aubreytown. The board is touchy about me going into the wilds alone.”