Fuzzy Nation

by John Scalzi

  “Not that it would happen,” Sullivan said. “Because, come on, Isabel. A sentience case is the sort of thing lawyers live to argue, on either side. I know Janice sure as hell doesn’t want to be general counsel on Zara Twenty-three forever. She’d hit me with a skimmer if I were in her way to try this one. But the reason you asked me out here was to get my perspective on this, right? This is my perspective: If you file an SSR now, you’re going to get crushed.”

  “So you think I should just keep quiet about the fuzzys,” Isabel said. “Like Jack.”

  “I never said keep quiet,” Holloway said. “I said be absolutely sure.”

  “I am absolutely sure,” Isabel shot back. “But what I’m hearing is that being absolutely sure isn’t good enough. And by the time I have enough evidence to convince anyone else, ZaraCorp will have this planet entirely mined out. So I might as well just shut up.”

  “Actually, you can’t do that now,” Sullivan said.

  “What?” Holloway got that out before Isabel did.

  “Colonial Authority law requires that any evidence of sentience must be reported by its chartered E and E corporations as soon as it’s discovered,” Sullivan said. “And now that you’ve spoken to me, a duly recognized legal representative of ZaraCorp, I’m obliged by law and by company regulation to report it to my superiors.”

  “You never said anything about that before,” Isabel said.

  “You didn’t tell me what you wanted me to come out here for,” Sullivan pointed out. “And besides that, think a minute, Isabel. You asked me to come out in my capacity as a lawyer. I haven’t stopped being ZaraCorp’s lawyer, any more than you’ve stopped being ZaraCorp’s biologist.”

  “But you just said that if I file an SSR, I’m going to lose,” Isabel said. “The fuzzys will lose.”

  “Not to mention every bit of work here will shut right down,” Holloway said.

  Sullivan smiled and held up his hand. “Everyone take a deep breath,” he said. “Isabel, there’s still a way for the fuzzys’ sentience to get a hearing without them or you getting squashed. And Jack, there’s a way to make it happen without initially putting your royalties at risk.”

  Isabel and Holloway looked at each other. “Well?” Holloway said, to Sullivan. “Are you going to tell us?”

  “I was actually enjoying the dramatic pause,” Sullivan said.

  “Don’t be a jackass, Mark,” Isabel said.

  “Fine,” Sullivan said. He put down his hand. “You’ll note I said that the E and E corporation is obliged to report any evidence of sentience. That means that the report comes from ZaraCorp, not from you or me.”

  “Okay,” Isabel said. “So what?”

  “So what it means is that this allows ZaraCorp to have a process for making the report,” Sullivan said. “You could file an SSR directly, but as Jack so eagerly points out, it’s hugely disruptive. So what we do instead is ask for an inquiry on evidence of sapience instead. The inquiry is essentially the company asking for a ruling to decide if the evidence it has supports filing an SSR. The ruling can decide for filing, against filing, or for further study.”

  “What does that last one mean?” Holloway asked.

  “It means that the judge orders the evidence examined by Colonial Authority experts on xenosapience, and while they study the issue, the E and E corporation is allowed to do business as usual,” Sullivan said. “It’s the ‘everybody wins’ scenario.”

  “Everybody does not win,” Isabel said. “Anything the company takes out of the planet isn’t there for the fuzzys to use later.”

  “The Colonial Authority requires the company to put a certain amount of the revenue of the planet in escrow pending resolution of the study,” Sullivan said. “Just in case.”

  “How much?” Isabel asked.

  “Ten percent,” Sullivan said.

  “Ten percent!” Isabel exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “It’s better than nothing, which is what they’ll get if you go straight for an SSR right now,” Sullivan said.

  “Not that I really want to raise objections to this, but ZaraCorp running an inquiry on whether or not ZaraCorp should stop exploiting a planet seems chock-full of conflict of interest,” Holloway said.

  “The inquiry is presided over by a Colonial Authority judge for that very reason,” Sullivan said. “Which means the ruling has the force of law. So if the judge decides ZaraCorp has to file an SSR, the company has two weeks to file, and two weeks after that to bring all exploitation to a halt pending a ruling.”

  “So what we’re aiming for here is a ‘needs more study’ ruling,” Holloway said.

  “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 hav
ing 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.”

  “I don’t give a shit,” Holloway said.

  “It’s very hot to be sitting inside a closed skimmer,” Landon said.

  “So crack a window and give him a bowl of water,” Holloway said. “If he puts a foot on my property, I’m parting his hair with a shotgun.”

  “You’re adding murder to your résumé, Mr. Holloway?” Landon asked.

  “It’s not murder if he’s a trespasser on private property and he refuses to leave when told to,” Holloway said.

  “He’s a ZaraCorp security officer, on a planet administrated by the company,” Aubrey said.

  “Then he can show me his search warrant,” Holloway said. “If he doesn’t have one, he’s trespassing. And so are you and Landon, now I think about it. The only one with an actual invitation to be here is Chad.”

  “So you’re going to shoot all of us, then,” Aubrey said.

  “Tempting, but no,” Holloway said. “Just him. If you don’t think I won’t, by all means have him get out of the skimmer.”

  Aubrey looked over to Bourne, who had stepped out of the front driver’s side of the skimmer. “I have no idea what this is about,” Bourne said.

  DeLise did nothing but glare through all of this.

  “Leave him your key fob,” Aubrey said, finally, to Bourne. “That way he can run the air conditioner.” Aubrey turned to Holloway. “All right? Or do you have any other unreasonable demands?”

  “Is there a reason you’re here, Aubrey?” Holloway asked. He pointed at Bourne. “I know why he’s here; he wants a day at the petting zoo. What do you want?”

  “Perhaps I’m curious about the creatures myself,” Aubrey said. “I might lose a fortune to them. I think I should at least get a chance to see them.”

  “Sorry,” Holloway said. “They’re not here right now.”

  “You didn’t keep them here?” Bourne said. “You knew we were coming.”

  “I knew you were coming,” Holloway said. “I wasn’t expecting an entourage. And no, I didn’t keep them here, Chad. They’re not my pets, they’re wild animals. They come and go when they please. After the first couple of days they started going back out into the trees. I imagine they’re doing whatever it is they did before I met them. Just like I come and go when I please, doing what I did before I met them.”

  “When will they be back?” Bourne asked.

  “Let me reiterate the part about them being wild animals,” Holloway said. “It’s not like they leave me their day planner when they go.”

  “Then maybe we can talk about something else,” Aubrey said.

  “What else is there to talk about?” Holloway asked.

  “Do you mind if we go inside to discuss it?” Aubrey said. “Because at this point I find it ironic that the only person sitting in air-conditioning is the guy you apparently want to kill.”

  Holloway glanced at DeLise, who was still glowering. “Fine,” he said. “Come on.”

  Inside the cabin, Carl greeted Bourne, whom he knew and liked, while Holloway discreetly repositioned his desktop security camera so it had a better angle on the outside world and Bourne’s skimmer, and tilted the hat so the camera could see outside.

  “So this is the famous explosives-detonating dog,” Aubrey said, petting Carl.

  “Alleged,” Holloway said. “Not proven.” He turned back to his guests and sat down at his desk.

  “Of course,” Aubrey said.

  “What do you want to talk about,” Holloway said.

  Aubrey glanced over to Landon. “We have concerns about this upcoming inquiry into the sapience of these animals you’ve found,” Landon said.

  “I w
ould imagine,” Holloway said.

  “We understand you’ve been called to testify at the inquiry,” Landon said.

  “That’s right,” Holloway said.

  “We’re wondering what you’re planning to say,” Landon said.

  “I have no idea,” Holloway said. “I don’t know what the judge is going to ask me.”

  “I would imagine that the judge would ask you to corroborate the report that Miss Wangai has submitted,” Landon said.

  “That’s possible,” Holloway said.

  “And will you?” Landon asked.

  Holloway looked at the three men in his cabin. “I think we can skip the preliminaries here,” he said. “If they ask if I saw the things Isabel saw, then I’m going to say yes. Because I did. It doesn’t mean I agree with her that the fuzzys are people. If you’re thinking of trying to convince me not to agree with Isabel’s conclusions, you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t. What’s more, Isabel knows I don’t. So you don’t have to bribe me to say it.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Aubrey said.

  “It’s pretty damn good,” Holloway said.

  “Not really,” Aubrey said. “She’s a biologist. You’re a surveyor. Her opinion counts for more than yours.”

  “So what?” Holloway said. “I live with the damn things. Her opinion might be worth more than mine, but mine will be good enough to keep the judge from ordering ZaraCorp to submit an SSR right off. The worst-case scenario here is that the judge orders more study. If you play that right, that gets you two or three years right there before there’s any final decision on the fuzzys’ sapience. More than enough time to exploit that sunstone seam.”

  “I understand you’re focused on the sunstone seam, Holloway,” Aubrey said. “But there’s more at stake than your half a percent. This planet is unusually heavy with metals and minerals, even beyond sunstones. It’s why there are sunstones in the first place. It’s the richest planet in ZaraCorp’s E and E territories. If we lose this planet, it puts ZaraCorp in a vulnerable position.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Holloway said. “There’s no reason I need to know any of that. It’s not my problem, outside the very limited issue of the sunstone seam.”