Holloway listened to Papa explain to Soltan and was amazed again by the creature. Papa’s words were simple—even at its highest setting the particular software Sam had on his infopanel was not meant for complex adult concepts or reading levels, and Papa’s language would be hampered by that—but the fuzzy spoke them confidently and fluently. It didn’t know much of the English language, but the little part it knew, it knew pretty well. Well enough for this.
Papa turned to Holloway. “My throat hurts,” the fuzzy said.
“Of course it does,” Holloway said. “You’ve been orating in a very low voice.”
Soltan looked at Holloway. “He’s saying he was a spy,” Soltan said. “Acting like a pet.”
“Yes,” Holloway said. “Although not entirely like a pet. It was clear Papa was smart, it just wasn’t clear he was smart on the level of a sentient creature. Also, he’s not really a he, he’s an it.”
Soltan frowned. “You call him ‘Papa,’” she said.
“Biology mistake,” Holloway said. “Patriarchal assumptions. What are you going to do.”
“Well, whatever,” Soltan said, and turned her attention back to Papa. “Do all of your people speak our language?” she asked.
“No,” Papa said. “I do. Some others do. Not many. It is hard to learn. Only I did from those who came to be with Jack Holloway.”
“Why did you want to learn our language?” Soltan asked.
“We want to know why you do what you do,” Papa said. “When we found the flat talking rock we knew that it could help us learn to talk with men. We learn and we look for a man to talk to. We did not find good men. We found bad men.”
“Who are the bad men?” Soltan said. “You said we had many of them.”
“Yes,” Papa said. “They have machines and tear the ground and trees and make the air stink. The trees are where we live and where our food is. When they come we do not stay. They do not see us because we see how they kill animals who come close. We go and we hide.”
Soltan glanced up at Holloway at this. “I presume you haven’t told your friend here what you do for a living, Mr. Holloway.”
Holloway looked embarrassed at this. “It hasn’t come up, no,” he said.
“There are levels of irony to that,” Soltan said.
“Granted,” Holloway said. “But given who they are and how they live, it’s easy to see why they see the surveyors and workers they come across as bad men. It also explains how they came to find me. Sam Hamilton’s old territory was next to mine. Not too long ago, the new surveyor there found copper along the border of our territories, and ZaraCorp came in and tore up a good chunk of it. Papa’s tribe of fuzzys must have gotten displaced. They’ve been moving through the trees ever since, looking for a new home. And if you want to hear something both funny and sad, ask Papa why it thought living with me might be a good idea.”
Soltan looked at Papa. “Why did you want to live with Jack Holloway?” she asked.
“I do not think men will tear the ground and trees where they live,” Papa said.
“Think about that, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “Aside from the irony inherent in the statement, that’s a fair feat of cognitive modeling. This fuzzy took what it knew about humans and guessed at what our behavior would be toward each other, and how it could work that to its own advantage and to the advantage of its own people.”
“If that’s true, then the thing’s been using you all this time, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said.
“Another argument for their sentience, Your Honor,” Holloway said.
“It doesn’t bother you,” Soltan said.
“Not really, Your Honor,” Holloway said.
“Mr. Holloway, that doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Soltan said.
“Yes, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “And now may I remind you that as enlightening as this has been for all of us, I brought Papa here for a specific reason, which is to testify for this preliminary hearing. If Your Honor is sufficiently convinced that Papa is neither a trick nor a parrot, I would like to put it on the stand.”
“Your Honor, I have to strenuously object,” Meyer said. “This creature has not yet been proven sentient. Any testimony it gives would be inadmissible in any court in the Colonial Authority or on Earth. If you allow the testimony, you’re giving in to the sideshow you said you were hoping to avoid.”
Soltan blinked at Meyer. “Ms. Meyer, have you been in the same courtroom I have been in for the last several minutes?” she asked. “I’ve just had a longer and more cogent discussion with this creature than I suspect you have ever had with your client. The question to me no longer is whether these creatures are sentient or not. That particular question was answered to my satisfaction several minutes ago. The only question now is whether or not this creature in particular is a credible witness. So I’m going to hear its testimony, Ms. Meyer, and make my decision after I hear what it has to say.”
“Then I’d like to request a thirty-minute recess to prepare,” Meyer said.
“Another recess,” Soltan said. “Why not.” She headed for her chambers.
Meyer was up like a shot and out the door of the courtroom. DeLise watched her go, openmouthed. He caught Holloway looking at him and glared.
“Looks like you’re not your lawyer’s main concern anymore, Joe,” Holloway said. “I’d be worried if I were you.”
DeLise crossed his arms, stared forward, and ignored Holloway.
Chapter Twenty-five
Zara Twenty-three’s entire flotilla of ZaraCorp lawyers, along with Brad Landon and Wheaton Aubrey VII, was waiting for Judge Soltan when she emerged from her chambers.
“Well, I can’t say this is a total surprise,” Soltan said, as she took her seat.
Meyer approached the bench without asking and placed a folder in front of Soltan. “A request for the suspension of this preliminary hearing,” she said. She dropped a second folder on the desk. “Request for change of venue for the preliminary hearing.” A third folder. “Request for suspension and review of your previous determination for more study concerning the so-called ‘fuzzys.’” A fourth folder. “A request to have you removed for legal malfeasance.” Soltan looked at the folders and then up at Meyer. “Someone’s had a productive half hour,” she said.
“Your Honor, it’s become abundantly clear that your legal standards are dangerously and prejudicially lax,” Meyer began.
“You’re too late, Ms. Meyer,” Soltan said, interrupting her.
“Excuse me, Your Honor?” Meyer said.
“I said, you’re too late,” Soltan said. “Because I am not actually stupid, Counselor, while you were off drafting this raft of legal chaff, I was in my chamber amending my determination for more study of the fuzzys. It’s been amended to require ZaraCorp to file a Suspected Sapience Report, and not just in two weeks, Ms. Meyer, but immediately. You can pick one of your people here to write it up while we’re listening to testimony, and file it with one of my clerks by the close of business today. So this”—Soltan lifted up the third folder—“is now outdated and irrelevant.
“As for the rest of these,” Soltan said, motioning to the rest of the folders, “your request for the suspension of the preliminary hearing is denied, your request for change of venue is denied, and as for your request to have me removed, by all means file it with my clerk, who will send it along with every other request at end of the business day. Which means until then we continue on as planned.” “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Meyer said.
“I beg your pardon, Ms. Meyer,” Soltan said.
“I cannot in good conscience as a lawyer continue with these proceedings,” Meyer said. “I feel it’s impossible for my client to get a fair hearing from you.” “And which client would that be, Ms. Meyer?” Soltan asked. “Mr. DeLise over here, or ZaraCorp?” “Either,” Meyer said. “Both. I refuse to continue with this preliminary hearing, and I will not direct my staff to file the SSR. I believe you are not competent to continue with the first, or to require the second.” “I admire your willingness to throw a wrench into the wheels of jurisprudence on behalf of your employer, Ms. Meyer, but I’ve given you my decisions,” Soltan said.