Fuzzy Nation

by John Scalzi

  “Stop grandstanding, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said.

  “Apologies, Your Honor,” Holloway said.

  “We’ll take another half hour break while my clerk retrieves Dr. Wangai from the beanstalk,” Soltan said. She stood. “See you in thirty.” She returned to her chambers. Holloway sat at his table and watched Meyer and DeLise confer furiously.

  Sullivan came up to the audience area directly behind the plaintiff table. “He doesn’t look very pleased,” he said to Holloway, nodding over to DeLise.

  “That’s because he’s realized that the fuzzy he thought got eaten by a zararaptor has come back to haunt him,” Holloway said. “It’s finally getting into his thick skull that he just might have to go to trial on this, and if he actually goes to trial, he’s going to lose.”

  “And you’re enjoying that fact,” Sullivan said.

  “Shit, yes,” Holloway said.

  Sullivan smiled. “That’s the Jack Holloway I’ve come to know,” he said. “Always ready to revel in the cheap dig.”

  “It’s not cheap,” Holloway said. “It’s cost ZaraCorp six hundred billion so far.”

  “Not bad for a morning’s work,” Sullivan said.

  “The day’s still young,” Holloway said.

  “Here comes Janice,” Sullivan said. Holloway looked up. Meyer was standing over him.

  “Let’s talk,” Meyer said.

  “Of course,” Holloway said. He stood up, and the two of them walked out of the courtroom, leaving DeLise and Sullivan behind.

  “This whole thing is getting out of hand,” Meyer said, as they stepped into a vacant conference room.

  “You’re just saying that because I’m kicking your client’s ass with the evidence,” Holloway said.

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Meyer said. “Making a show of an animal corpse in a preliminary hearing is one thing. But it’s the sort of thing I’m going to demolish in an actual trial. Shit, Holloway. You hanging on to that thing for a week? You really think I’m going to have a problem introducing reasonable doubt on that? Not to mention it’s morbid as hell.”

  “I see,” Holloway said. “So you want to do me a favor and save me the embarrassment of falling on my ass in a big-boy trial.”

  “Don’t do that,” Meyer said. “I know about you, Holloway. I know you used to do this for a living. I know you were good at it too, until you punched your client. And I know that you didn’t exactly punch your client out of passion, either. You did it for effect, and you got paid well for it, and that your time on this planet has been a sort of extended vacation for you. So, yeah, Holloway, I know you’re good. All right?”

  “Okay, better,” Holloway said.

  “But we both know this is all bullshit anyway,” Meyer said. “You and DeLise have a history. Fine. He finally went over the line with it. Fine. Let’s all agree he’s an asshole and just settle this.”

  “What’s the offer?” Holloway said.

  “Drop the suit,” Meyer said. “DeLise apologizes without admitting guilt. ZaraCorp fires DeLise and puts a note in his employment record that keeps him from working security again—but no criminal record. We ship him off and he spends the rest of his life washing dishes somewhere and is grateful for it. And not that it should matter to you at this point, Mr. Billionaire, but ZaraCorp also reimburses you for your cabin and anything else damaged by the fire.”

  “How much total?” Holloway asked.

  “We’re not exactly going to be pinching pennies,” Meyer said.

  “And what about for the fuzzys?” Holloway asked.

  “What about them?” Meyer said.

  “Your boy stomped one, shot another, and killed both,” Holloway said. “That has to be worth something.”

  “Name your price,” Meyer said. “But don’t go crazy about it.”

  “It’s not a bad deal,” Holloway said.

  “It gets you what you want,” Meyer said. “Hell, it gets everyone what they want—DeLise out of security. He’s a menace. You’d be doing the universe the favor.”

  “That is, if you can get him to accept it,” Holloway said.

  “Don’t you worry about that,” Meyer said. “That’s my job, and I’m good at it.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Holloway said.

  “So we have a deal,” Meyer said.

  “Absolutely not,” Holloway said.

  “No deal,” Meyer said.

  “No way,” Holloway said. “Not a chance in Hell.”

  “Can I ask why not?” Meyer asked.

  “Because, Ms. Meyer,” Holloway said, “with all due respect for your considerable skills and intellect, the fact of the matter is you have absolutely no clue what it is I want out of this.”

  * * *

  Isabel’s testimony was anticlimactic. Yes, Your Honor, Jack brought me the body to examine. No, Your Honor, it was not tampered with in any way I could see. Yes, I dug the bullet out myself. No, I am not a licensed forensic examiner. Yes, the DNA work was only preliminary; I was locked out of the lab for half the week when they informed me I was being transferred. No, I don’t know why they should have locked me out of the lab. Holloway smiled at Isabel as she walked out of the witness stand. Now the whole gang was here.

  “Mr. Holloway, any other evidence for me before I get to the defense exhibits?” Soltan asked, after Isabel had sat down in the audience area.

  “No more physical evidence, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “But I have a witness to the arson. Someone who can definitively identify Mr. DeLise as the man in the mask.”

  “Very well,” Soltan said. “Bring in your witness, Mr. Holloway.”

  “The witness is in my skimmer, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “It’s in the parking area.”

  “Send someone, then,” Soltan said.

  “Mr. Sullivan knows what my skimmer looks like, if that’s all right,” Holloway said.

  “Fine,” Soltan said, irritably. “Make it fast.” Holloway nodded to Sullivan and handed him his key fob. Sullivan left.

  “Is there a reason you left your witness in the skimmer, Mr. Holloway?” Soltan asked, while they waited.

  “The witness wanted to spend time with my dog,” Holloway said.

  “Is the witness someone you have a personal relationship with, Mr. Holloway?” Meyer asked.

  Holloway smiled. “You could say that, Ms. Meyer.”

  The door to the courtroom opened and Sullivan walked through, followed by something small.

  It was Papa Fuzzy.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  “That’s it,” Soltan said. “Mr. Holloway. Approach the bench. Now.”

  Holloway approached. Janice Meyer, making a unilateral decision, approached as well.

  “You’re in contempt, Holloway,” Soltan said, spitting out the words.

  “For calling a witness, Your Honor?” Holloway asked.

  “For trying to make a fool out of me,” Soltan said.

  “I am not trying to make a fool out of you,” Holloway said.

  “Really,” Soltan said. “Because from where I’m sitting, that’s exactly what you seem to be doing. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been inserting these animals into the hearing at every opportunity.”

  “They’re not animals,” Holloway began.

  “Don’t start that with me now, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan warned. “I am really not in the mood.”

  “Nor have I been inserting them into the hearing,” Holloway continued, risking Soltan’s additional wrath. “The video of the attack and the corpse of the attacked fuzzy had material bearing on the charges.”

  “But you haven’t exactly been shy about using the creatures as an attempt to play off our emotions, have you,” Meyer said.

  “I don’t particularly care about your emotions, Meyer,” Holloway said.

  “And I don’t particularly care for you attempting to play off of mine,” Soltan said, to Holloway. “We’re here to look at the facts of the case, Mr. Holloway. I’ve given you slack on your rope b
ecause I thought you were getting to these facts, but this”—Soltan nodded her head dismissively in the direction of Papa Fuzzy, who by now had reached the well of the courtroom and was watching the three of them curiously—“makes it clear that you’re not here to present those facts, you’re here to do something else entirely. It’s bad enough you brought a dead one of these creatures into this courtroom to showboat. I’m not going to allow you to bring in a live one to make a fool out of me. You’ve taken that rope I gave you and hanged yourself on it.”

  “This creature is a witness, Your Honor,” Holloway said, grimly. “If you want the facts as you say you do, then you will let me call it to testify.”

  “And how are you going to do that?” Meyer said. “Have you suddenly become an expert on their communication, Holloway? Or are you planning to call Dr. Chen to translate? Because calling in a xenolinguist who has an entire career to gain by asserting these animals have language isn’t going to be problematic at all.”

  “I find it interesting the concern you have for my potential witnesses, considering how ZaraCorp’s gone out of its way to try to make sure I didn’t have any to call,” Holloway said.

  “He’s not calling Dr. Chen, Ms. Meyer,” Soltan said. “He’s not calling anyone. I reiterate, Mr. Holloway: You are in contempt of court. Recess is called until such time as you find new legal representation for the remainder of your case. When we resume, you will be allowed into the courtroom and you will be allowed to communicate with your new legal representative, but that’s it. When the preliminary hearing is through, you’ll be taken into custody.”

  “You’re going to place me into the loving hands of ZaraCorp’s Security force?” Holloway said. “You really are trying to get me hanged.”

  “That is enough, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said, and stood.

  “I have a witnesss, Your Honor,” Holloway said, loudly. “You need to let my witness talk.”

  “Stop wasting my time, Mr. Holloway,” Soltan said. “The answer is no.”

  “So I will not talk?” Papa Fuzzy asked, in a high, thin but distinct voice. “I have come to talk. I have come to tell my story. Will I not talk now?”

  * * *

  Holloway counted in his head the seconds before anyone else spoke. He got to nine.

  “Tell me I just heard what I think I heard,” Judge Soltan said, still standing.

  “This is what I’ve been trying to tell you, Your Honor,” Holloway said, quickly. “I have a witness. It is ready to testify.” He turned to Meyer. “And it doesn’t need a translator.” He looked at Papa, who was eyeing him curiously. “Please say hello to Judge Soltan,” he said.

  The fuzzy turned and looked back at the judge. “Hello, Judge Soltan,” said the fuzzy, slowly.

  Judge Soltan sat.

  “So he’s taught the thing to recite a phrase,” Meyer said, scrambling to regain ground. “That proves it’s as smart as a parrot.”

  “Mr. Holloway,” Soltan began.

  “Talk to it, Your Honor,” Holloway said. “If you think I’m trying to trick you, talk to this fuzzy here. Ask it a question. Any question. But if I may suggest, keep your words simple. Its vocabulary is not extensive.”

  “This is ridiculous, Your Honor,” Meyer said.

  “Your Honor, I may showboat, but I’m not stupid,” Holloway said. “Do you honestly think I’d bring this creature in front of you if all I could get it to do is recite spoon-fed words and phrases? How long would that trick work? One round of questions, maybe two, before everything went off the script. There’s no possible way I could account for every comment or question you would have to ask it. And then what? What good would it do me and my case against Mr. DeLise to attempt to con you?”

  Holloway pointed a finger at DeLise. “All I would get out of it is time in a security holding cell with his buddies watching over me,” he said. “So, no. It’s not a trick. Ask it whatever you like, for as long as you like, until you’re convinced.”

  “That doesn’t prove a thing,” Meyer said. “A transmitter could feed the thing lines.”

  “Examine it however you want,” Holloway said, to Meyer. “Run any sort of scanner you have over its body. You’ll be wasting your time, but if that’s what it takes, be my guest.”

  “Your Honor, this mockery needs to stop now,” Meyer said, to Soltan.

  “Quiet, Ms. Meyer,” Soltan snapped. Meyer quieted, and shot a poisonous look at Holloway. Holloway kept his face blank. Soltan sat silently at her desk, chewing over recent events.

  “Your Honor,” Holloway prompted, after a minute. “You need to tell us what we’re doing now. And I need to know if I’m still under contempt.”

  Soltan looked over at Holloway. “Mr. Holloway, if I find a single bit of evidence that this witness is anything but what you say it is, contempt charges are going to be the least of your problems.”

  “Fair enough,” Holloway said. “But at least try to talk to the fuzzy first.” He and Meyer returned to their tables.

  Soltan glanced down at the fuzzy, who still stood there, staring impassively at her. Soltan opened her mouth to speak, closed it, and got a look on her face that said, I can’t believe I’m doing this. She looked up again at Holloway.

  “Does it have a name, Mr. Holloway?” Soltan asked.

  “Why don’t you ask the fuzzy,” Holloway said.

  Soltan looked back to the fuzzy. “Do you have a name?” she asked slowly.

  “Yes,” the fuzzy said.

  There was a pause after this before Soltan figured out that she might have to be more literal. “Please tell me your name,” she said.

  “My name is,” and here there was a pause. “Jack Holloway calls me ‘Papa’ but that is not my name. My name is.”

  Soltan looked up, confused. “I didn’t catch the name,” she said.

  “You couldn’t,” Holloway said. “Fuzzy speech is spoken above the range of our hearing, remember. When it’s speaking to you in English, it’s talking at the absolute bottom of its vocal range.”

  Soltan nodded. “May I call you Papa?” she asked the fuzzy.

  “Jack Holloway calls me ‘Papa.’ You can call me ‘Papa,’” Papa said.

  “How do you feel, Papa?” Soltan asked.

  “I feel with my hands,” Papa said.

  “You might want to try more direct questions,” Holloway said.

  “All right,” Soltan said. “Papa, how do you speak our language?”

  “With my mouth,” Papa said, and gave Soltan a look, as if wondering how she didn’t know either this, or how to feel.

  “No,” Soltan said. “Who taught you to speak our language? Did Jack Holloway teach you to speak?”

  “I knew your language before I met Jack Holloway,” the fuzzy said. “No man taught me to speak your language. Andy Alpaca taught us to speak your language. Andy Alpaca taught us from inside the flat talking rock.”

  “That makes no sense,” Meyer said. “That makes no sense at all.”

  “What is a flat talking rock?” Soltan said.

  Papa turned and pointed to Holloway’s infopanel. “This is a flat talking rock,” it said. “You use other words for it.”

  “That’s an infopanel,” Soltan said.

  “Yes,” Papa said. “The man and the monkey fell out of the sky and the man was killed by the” pause, as Papa used a fuzzy word. “We went into the skimmer to see what we could see and found the flat talking rock. It taught us your language.”

  Soltan looked at Holloway. “Translate,” she said.

  “There was a surveyor named Sam Hamilton,” Holloway said. “He had a pet monkey. His skimmer went down. He was killed by zararaptors. The fuzzys checked out the skimmer wreckage and found his infopanel. Sam was nearly illiterate, so he was using kids’ reading software to learn how to read. The software was adaptive, so it took into consideration the user’s comprehension level and scaled from there.”

  “You’re seriously suggesting these things learned to read and speak a hum
an language from an advanced piece of technology,” Meyer said.

  “Yes, just like human toddlers,” Holloway said. “Amazing, that.”

  “Unlike these things, toddlers are surrounded by other humans talking to them all the time,” Meyer said.

  “And unlike toddlers, the fuzzys who found this were adults, and smart enough to figure out what the infopanel was displaying to them,” Holloway said. “You’re still working under the impression these things are animals. They’re not. They’re as smart as you or I.”

  “Why didn’t you mention any of this before?” Soltan asked. “You were in here last week arguing these fuzzys had language. If you had one come in and speak English, it would have made your case a lot better.”

  Holloway nodded toward the fuzzy. “That’s a question for Papa,” he said.

  Soltan looked at the fuzzy. “You knew our language before you met Jack Holloway,” she said.

  “Yes,” said Papa.

  “You did not speak to Jack Holloway in our language when you met him,” Soltan said.

  “No,” said Papa.

  “Why?” asked Soltan.

  “I did not want Jack Holloway to know,” Papa said. “We did not know if Jack Holloway was a good man or a bad man. You have many bad men. Bad men take our homes and food from us and make us move away from other” pause. “We did not know if there are any good men. All the men we saw were bad. When we moved, we found where Jack Holloway lived. I wanted to see and went to see it. Jack Holloway and Carl came and I was scared. But Jack Holloway was good and gave me food. I went back to my people and said I had found a good man.”

  There was a snort from Janice Meyer at this.

  “I wanted to go back but my people were scared,” Papa said. “I told them about Carl and how Carl was like the monkey who follows us. An animal who was not smart but who men liked. I said I would go and be quiet, to learn more about Jack Holloway and men. I would not speak your language. I would not let Jack Holloway know I could speak your language. I would see how Jack Holloway was with me quiet before I would see how Jack Holloway was with me smart. If Jack Holloway was a good man, then we could show who we are and that we are smart. If Jack Holloway was a bad man, we would hide and move, as we did before.”