Fuzzy Nation

by John Scalzi

  “There’s no point in that if it’s not going to help me,” Bourne said.

  “Chad, this is what I mean about you being a fundamentally decent guy,” Holloway said. “Let me put it to you this way: Sometimes in life you’re going to win and sometimes you’re going to lose. But just because you lose doesn’t mean the other guy needs to win. Do you understand me?”

  “Not really,” Bourne said.

  “Well, think about it anyway,” Holloway said. “Maybe it will come to you.” The three of them turned a corner and stood in front of the ZaraCorp administration building.

  “Your stop,” Holloway said.

  “I still don’t like you very much,” Bourne said, to Holloway.

  “I haven’t ever given you any reason to like me, Chad,” Holloway said. “And I’m not going to pretend I like you all that much either. Just know that I think you’re a good guy. You’re a good guy and you don’t deserve to get screwed. And as much as I can, I’m going to try to keep that from happening. All right?”

  “All right,” Bourne said. Impulsively he stuck out his hand to Holloway. He took it.

  “Thanks,” Holloway said.

  Bourne nodded and entered the building. Holloway watched him fade into the murk of the lobby and then maneuvered Carl across the street, where Isabel and Sullivan were waiting for him. Carl made a beeline for Isabel, who patted him happily.

  “How is he?” Sullivan asked, of Bourne.

  “He’s now completely scared shitless,” Holloway said. “Which was the plan.”

  “Any idea what he’ll do when he gets called to testify?” Sullivan asked.

  “Not a clue,” Holloway said.

  “Should be interesting,” Sullivan said.

  “That’s a word for it,” Holloway said.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Isabel said. “Poor Chad. He is an actual human being, you know. Not just a chess piece for the two of you to play with.”

  “He’s definitely a pawn,” Holloway said. “The question is whether he’s ours or someone else’s. And at the very least, we’re trying to keep him from getting framed for arson. Or attempted murder, come to think of it.”

  “He’s a good guy, Jack,” Isabel said.

  “I know it, Isabel,” Holloway said. “I really do.” Isabel did not look terribly convinced.

  “While the two of you were off having your little chat, both Isabel and I got some interesting news,” Sullivan said.

  “What is it?” Holloway asked.

  “We’re being transferred,” Isabel said. “Both of us. Mark’s been given a general counsel position on Zara Eleven and I’m being sent back to Earth to head up a lab there.”

  “Effective when?” Holloway asked.

  “Effective immediately,” Sullivan said. “We’ve both been relieved of our duties and have been given three days to pack. Our beanstalk transport is scheduled to leave while you’re having your preliminary hearing.”

  “How unsurprisingly coincidental,” Holloway said.

  “It’s not just us,” Isabel said. “Arnold Chen’s paperwork snafu has magically cleared itself up. He’s headed for Uraill on the same beanstalk transport we are.”

  “He must be excited,” Holloway said.

  “He’s miserable,” Isabel said. “He called me about it and was wailing. He’s waited his whole life to decipher the language of a new sentient being, and they won’t let him. They’ve locked him out of his files entirely. They locked me out of mine, too.”

  “I still have copies of yours,” Holloway said.

  “Which is the only reason I’m not wailing,” Isabel said.

  “They’re clearing us out before the CEPA xenosentience team can get here,” Sullivan said. “Anyone who knows anything about the fuzzys. Except for you, Jack.”

  “You figure that’s ominous,” Holloway said.

  “Don’t you?” Sullivan asked.

  “I’ve been in ominous mode since my skimmer fell out of the sky,” Holloway said.

  “We’re worried about you, Jack,” Isabel said. “Both of us are.”

  “You can’t fool me,” Holloway said. “You’re more worried about Carl.”

  “I’m serious, Jack,” Isabel said.

  “I’m more worried about the dog, myself,” Sullivan said.

  “There we go,” Holloway said.

  “Mark,” Isabel said.

  “Isabel, Mark,” Holloway said. “Your new assignments don’t change anything. None of this changes anything. When we woke up this morning we had three days to prepare. We still have three days to prepare. If we pull it off, three days is all the time we’re going to need. If we don’t, then it’s not going to matter one way or another. For now, let the future take care of itself. We’ve got three days. Let’s get to work.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Judge Nedra Soltan took her seat and peered out into her courtroom. “This looks familiar,” she said to Holloway and Janice Meyer, who were standing at their respective tables. “We talking fuzzy creatures again, Counselors?”

  “No, Your Honor,” said Meyer, who was representing DeLise, who was standing with her at the defense table.

  “I think the defendant is bit of an ape, Your Honor,” said Holloway.

  “Watch it, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said. She held up a sheet with her notes on it. “It says you are acting as your own counsel.”

  “There’s someone else I might have asked, but he’s being deported off-planet today,” Holloway said. “So I’m stuck with myself.”

  “You know what they say about the man who represents himself in court, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said.

  “Yes. I do know it,” Holloway said. “But I also know the law. I even used to be a lawyer.”

  “Disbarred,” Meyer said.

  “Not for not knowing the law,” Holloway said.

  “Yes, I know,” Soltan said. “After your performance the last time you were here, I looked up your file. You punched your own client.”

  “He deserved it,” Holloway said.

  “Maybe so,” Soltan said. “But do anything like that here, and being disbarred will seem like a cakewalk in comparison. Do you understand me, Mr. Holloway?”

  “I give you my word I will not punch my client,” Holloway said.

  “Very droll, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said. “Sit.”

  Everyone sat.

  “This is a preliminary hearing before a judge,” Soltan said in a tone of voice that suggested she had said the same bit of verbiage innumerable times before, in front of people who knew exactly what she was going to say. “In cases where the nature of a colony makes it difficult or impossible to convene a grand jury, the plaintiff and defense may jointly agree to have evidence for a potential suit examined by a judge, and to have witnesses examined by the same, who will then determine if there is sufficient cause to bring the matter forward into a full court trial, either civil or criminal. Do the plaintiff and the defense so request?”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” said Meyer.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” said Holloway.

  “Does counsel understand that this hearing is for the benefit of the judge alone for determining the adequacy of the evidence to move forward to a trial, and not the trial itself, and that as such customary trial rules concerning discovery do not apply?” Soltan said. “That is to say, one or the other of you, or both, may not be aware of the evidence or witnesses called by the other.”

  “Understood,” said Meyer.

  “Yes,” said Holloway.

  “Does counsel understand that the determinations and rulings of the judge in this preliminary hearing are binding pending full trial, provided there is one?” Soltan said.

  Meyer and Holloway both gave their assent.

  “Fine,” Soltan said. “Then let’s get on with this. Mr. Holloway, what are you accusing Mr. DeLise of?”

  “He burned down my house,” Holloway said.

  “So, arson,” Soltan said.

  “Arson, yes,” Holloway
said. “Also attempted arson for attempting to burn down my outbuildings and failing, destruction of personal property, and attempted murder.”

  “You weren’t home when your house burned down,” Soltan said.

  “He didn’t know that before he got there,” Holloway said.

  “Let’s not stretch ourselves too far, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said. “I’m going to proceed for the moment with arson and destruction of personal property. If attempted arson and attempted murder become evident in the evidence you present, I’ll reinsert them.”

  “Fine, Your Honor,” Holloway said.

  “Ms. Meyer, by any chance would your client like to cop to these allegations?” Soltan asked.

  “No, Your Honor,” Meyer said. “My client has a roster of witnesses who will account for his whereabouts for the entire day in question.”

  “Of course,” Soltan said. She made a note and then looked up. “All right, Mr. Holloway, plaintiff first.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Holloway said, and picked up his infopanel, to connect it to the larger monitor in the courtroom. “The first piece of evidence I’d like to show you is a security camera video from my house. I have a camera on my desk that is constantly running, and the video caches onto my infopanel storage space, which is convenient in this particular case, since the actual camera was destroyed in the fire.”

  “Is this video from a secure camera?” Meyer asked.

  “No,” Holloway said.

  “So it’s possible you could have tampered with it,” Meyer said.

  “I’m perfectly willing to file an affidavit with the court that the video is unaltered and unedited, and to testify so on the matter in open court,” Holloway said.

  “Later,” Soltan said. “For now, show me the video.”

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Holloway said. He started the video. It unspooled in the monitor: The skimmer landing at Holloway’s compound, the man stepping out of the skimmer, him trying the door and window, and him meeting the fuzzys, stomping Baby, and fighting with Pinto. Holloway glanced over at Meyer, who looked horrified at what the man had done to Baby, and then at DeLise, who sat there motionless.

  “Pause this,” Soltan said, suddenly. Holloway paused the video. The judge turned to him. “Is this a joke, Mr. Holloway?”

  “In what sense, Your Honor?” Holloway asked.

  “This video has yet to show anything related to arson,” Soltan said. “Instead I’m watching some man fight and kill small animals. It’s sickening, but it doesn’t have anything to do with your claim.”

  “First, I would note to Your Honor that we’re in the process of determining whether the fuzzys which you see being killed here are animals or if they’re people,” Holloway said. “And if they do turn out to be people, then whoever it is setting fire to my house—I am claiming Mr. DeLise—will also have at least one count of murder to contend with.”

  “Mr. Holloway,” Soltan began.

  “However, that is neither here nor there to my claim, and I am not alleging murder,” Holloway said, quickly. “Nevertheless the man’s actions with the fuzzys are relevant, as you are about to see.”

  “I had better,” Soltan said.

  “Yes, Your Honor. In fact, it’s just about to happen.” Holloway resumed the playback. The man threw Pinto to the ground and shot the fuzzy. “There’s the gun. Now, you see the fuzzy runs away, in the direction of my cabin. The man keeps firing. And there, a bullet enters my cabin. This I suspect is what initially started the fire. If you wait a minute, you’ll start to see smoke.” The courtroom waited for the smoke to arrive, and as it did so watched the man kick and shoot Baby, and throw the corpse into the burning cabin. Meyer looked like she was about to be sick. Good, thought Holloway.

  Holloway stopped the playback when the camera failed.

  “Ms. Meyer,” Soltan said, after a minute. “Any rebuttal?”

  Meyer blinked and then coughed to hide the fact she was trying to get her focus back. “The video shows that a man accidentally set fire to Mr. Holloway’s cabin, but it doesn’t show that it was Mr. DeLise,” she said.

  “The man set fire to the cabin after trying to break into it, which means it was an action associated with a crime,” Holloway said. “By Colonial law, that’s third-degree arson.”

  “The man in question could have been there for another reason,” Meyer said.

  “In a ski mask,” Holloway said. “In a jungle. On a sweltering day. Besides that, look. The first thing this guy does on encountering someone else—human or not—is to stomp and shoot them to death. If the fuzzys were people, that would be murder. He’s not there for a social call, Your Honor. And now you can see why I think my murder was one of the goals of the visit.”

  “Attempted murder’s not coming back in on the basis of this video,” Soltan said. “But I agree that there’s reasonable claim for an arson charge, as well as destruction of property.”

  “Nothing on the video proves that the man in it is my client, however,” Meyer said. “And in point of fact, there’s something in it that points against it. Mr. Holloway?” Meyer held out her hand, requesting the infopanel. Holloway gave it. Meyer ran the video back to the beginning, to the skimmer landing. “There,” she said. “The skimmer.”

  “What about it?” Soltan said.

  Meyer pointed. “Look at the serial numbers on the side,” she said. “That’s a Zarathustra corporate number. This isn’t a security skimmer, which is the sort my client usually has access to. It’s a model given to ZaraCorp’s contractor representatives so they can visit their contractors out in the field.”

  “So run the number through the ZaraCorp database, and tell me whose skimmer it is,” Soltan said.

  “We don’t have to,” Meyer said. “We already know. He’s outside the courtroom right now, waiting to be a rebuttal witness.”

  * * *

  “You understand you are under oath,” Soltan said.

  “I do,” said Chad Bourne.

  “Your name and occupation, please,” Soltan said.

  “Chad Bourne, Contractor Representative for Zarathustra Corporation,” he said.

  “You’re up,” Soltan said, to Meyer.

  “Mr. Bourne, are you Mr. Holloway’s contractor representative?” Meyer asked.

  “Yes, I am,” Bourne said.

  “And you have been so for how long?” Meyer asked.

  “I’ve been his rep for as long as I’ve been here on Zara Twenty-three,” Bourne said. “That’d be about seven years now.”

  “What’s your general opinion of Mr. Holloway?” Meyer asked.

  “Am I allowed to use profanity?” Bourne asked.

  “No,” Soltan said.

  “Then it’s best to say that our relationship has been a tense one,” Bourne said.

  “Any particular reason?” Meyer asked.

  “How much time do you have?” Bourne said.

  “Just hit the highlights,” Meyer said.

  “He’s lax with CEPA and ZaraCorp regulations, he’s argumentative, he tries to lawyer everything, he ignores me when I tell him he can’t do things, and he’s just all-around a jerk,” Bourne said, looking at Holloway.

  “Any positive qualities?” Meyer asked, slightly bemused.

  “I like his dog,” Bourne said.

  “Have you ever said that you hate Mr. Holloway?” Meyer asked.

  “On a regular basis,” Bourne said.

  “Mr. Bourne, are you aware that your skimmer may have been used in the furtherance of a crime?” Meyer asked.

  “I guessed that when my skimmer was impounded the other day,” Bourne said.

  “Yes,” Meyer said. “We found fire suppressant residue on the skimmer. The same brand that Mr. Holloway used to keep his compound from burning down.”

  “Okay,” Bourne said.

  “We’ve also now seen a video where your skimmer’s number is visible,” Meyer said.

  “All right,” Bourne said.

  “Mr. Bourne, can y
ou account for your whereabouts the day Mr. Holloway’s cabin burned down?” Meyer asked.

  “I was at home sick most of the day,” Bourne said.

  “So you didn’t see any one, and no one saw you,” Meyer said.

  “No,” Bourne said.

  Meyer turned to Soltan and prepared to introduce an alternate theory of the crime.

  “Oh, wait, that’s not quite right,” Bourne said. “I did see someone.”

  Meyer swallowed her intended speech. “How is that again?” she said.

  “I did see someone,” Bourne said.

  “Who?” Meyer asked.

  “Him,” Bourne said, pointing at Holloway. “I needed to tell him I had made a small error regarding that sunstone find of his. Turns out ZaraCorp doesn’t own it. He does.”

  “What?” Meyer said.

  “What?” Soltan said.

  “Yep,” Bourne said. “Just before he discovered it, I terminated his contract. For cause, I might add. But when he told me about his find, I guess in all the excitement, I forgot to reactivate his contract, which would have ceded the find back to ZaraCorp. While I was at home, I was reviewing contracts and I noticed his was missing. So I did a little digging. Turns out that by both Butters versus Wayland and Buchheit versus Zarathustra Corporation, he’s the actual owner of the seam. I thought maybe ZaraCorp could try to take it from him, but then we’d be running up against Greene versus Winston, and given what happened the last time ZaraCorp went up against that, I didn’t want to risk it. So I felt obliged to inform him. I knew he was in Aubreytown that day, so I went and told him about it. I figured he might want to know he’s worth one-point-two trillion credits. I would. Who wouldn’t?”

  There was dead silence in the courtroom.

  “Oh, come on!” Meyer said, eventually. “You can’t seriously believe Holloway owns that seam.”

  “He does,” Bourne said. “Oversight on my part. Sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Meyer said. “The only witness to your whereabouts is the plaintiff, who you just happen to be giving a trillion credits of ZaraCorp’s money to? Sorry is the word I would use for that, indeed.”

  “Am I allowed to make objections here?” Holloway asked, raising his hand.

  “What is it, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said.