“Tell me you have a name and I’ll turn over my firstborn son to you, when I get around to having one.”
“A name, yes, but it is an obvious fake,” Chang said. “John Smith.”
“Gah! You just lost out on getting a good kid. Description?”
“That we have, assuming this guy didn’t use a synthmask.”
Yeah, my luck would run that way. “Tell me what you have.”
“Based on the canvass we were able to zero in on the location of the signal. It was the San Giacomo apartment building. It’s a bit of a fleabag and the owner doesn’t ask too many questions when he rents out the rooms, though he gave a pretty good description of the most likely tenant.”
“And?” Carr prompted.
“He rented the room the same day Tony and Ripper made planet fall on the City of Asgard.” Chang consulted his notebook. “The shuttle landed at the Mallorysport-Darius spaceport at 1000. Mr. Smith rented the apartment at 1600 the same day.”
“All right, it’s a little thin, but it’s all we have. Put an APB out on this John Smith, double the men at the spaceport and have forensics tear his apartment apart…after we get the warrant. I’ll call Gus Brannhard, you get the men in place.”
Chang gave a smart “Yes, sir” and moved out. Carr stared at the screen for a moment before tapping out the Chief Prosecutor’s office. It was going to be another long day.
XXVIII
Red Fur considered what to do with the two Big Ones. The one called Joe Quigley told him that the Big Ones were powerful and could destroy the Jin-f’ke from so far away that even those with the sharpest eyes could not see it. The Fuzzy leader did not doubt this. He had seen for himself many of the wonders the Big Ones had created: made-things that moved around and did work, melon-seed shaped flying things that they traveled in, noisy weapons that could kill Jin-f’ke easily from a distance. It seemed the Big Ones could do almost anything.
They could be killed, too. Poisoned arrows made Big Ones as dead as anything else. When cut, they would bleed. Big Ones were large and strong and wise; they were not impossible to kill. Yet, the warning of such weapons that could kill his people from far away worried Red Fur.
Then the new Big One, the Jack Holloway, came to the camp and made overtures of peace. He allowed himself to be taken prisoner. Why? If the Big Ones were so powerful, why make friends? Jin-f’ke liked to make friends. Maybe the Big Ones did, too. But if so, why the killing? Red Fur’s thoughts went round and round until his head started to hurt. The Fuzzy leader decided it was time to speak with the Big Ones some more.
* * * * * * * * *
The dog cavalry of Fuzzies quickly surrounded the encampment of the Northern Fuzzies. The dogs, under their masters’ guidance, took their positions quickly and silently. The riders, instead of giving commands in their normal ultrasonic voice that the opposing force might hear, whispered to the mounts and the other Fuzzies using the language of the Big Ones. Little Fuzzy had taken great pains to explain the tactical advantage involved in keeping their voices low and using a language unfamiliar to their foes. He learned about the tactic from a Big One movie where people called Navajo talked on the radio in a language nobody else could understand.
When the Fuzzies had all reached their appointed positions, they indicated it by raising a bow, chopper-digger or the scaled down rifles designed for them by Mart Burgess. Chances were that the dog riders had already been spotted by the Northern Fuzzies when they first rode up. Little Fuzzy anticipated that possibility and decided it wasn’t important; Fuzzies did not attack other Fuzzies without provocation, and Little Fuzzy fully intended to inform them of their presence momentarily.
Looking about at the various groups in his area, Little Fuzzy could see that they were all in place by their raised weapons. After several heartbeats, he could see flashing lights from the further edges of the perimeter; that would be Mike, Ko-ko, and Cinderella signaling with their flashlights. Little Fuzzy signaled back; all was ready.
Everybody counted to five from the last signal, then yelled at the top of their hypersonic little voices. The noise permeated the entire area. Even the dogs, despite their training, howled in agony at the sudden assault of hypersonic noise. After several heartbeats, the yelling and howling stopped, almost simultaneously. Now it was time to wait and see what the other Fuzzies would do.
* * * * * * * * *
Red Fur had been on his way to speak with the new Big One called Jack Holloway (the Big Ones had the strangest names) when Climber, Runs Fast and Makes-Things all ran up to report that many-many new people on strange new animals had surrounded the camp. When he asked what the new people were doing, they did not know.
Then the yelling started. Red Fur knew what the sound was, mostly; it was the sound of many-many people all screaming at once. It was a never before done thing and it was frightening to hear, especially with the strange noises made by the new animals. All around him he could see that the Jin-f’ke were afraid. The strange things that the Big Ones did were no longer as frightening, they were expected. After all, it would be hard to top flying made-things and the great thunder noise that made the big-big hole in the ground.
But the people like the Jin-f’ke that acted strangely were different. They sat on the backs of animals never before seen by his people. They carried shiny chopper-diggers like the ones carried by the Jack Holloway and his giant furry friend. They had bows and arrows that looked different from their own, and dark made-things like the boom-sticks he had seen Big Ones carry. And there were things on their backs that Red Fur couldn’t understand the purpose of.
Red Fur had trouble processing what he was seeing. Big Ones killed Jin-f’ke, yet here were people like him that had to be friends with the Big Ones. How else could they have such amazing made-things? Why would they be friends with the ones who killed people like them.
The yelling stopped as quickly as it started. The sudden silence was as jarring as the noise had been. Many of the Jin-f’ke became even more afraid. Red Fur looked around and saw the early signs of panic in some of the people’s eyes. He would have to do something quickly to maintain control.
As Red Fur considered his options, one of the new people came up to the edge of his camp riding on the strange animal. The rider stopped his mount and jumped down, then placed his chopper-digger on the ground and placed one foot on it. That meant the visitor wanted to talk and, maybe, make friends.
Red Fur wasn’t carrying a chopper-digger at that moment, so he borrowed one from another Jin-f’ke before stepping forward to meet the newcomer. When he was close enough to speak, he laid down the weapon and placed his foot on it in the manner of the new Fuzzy. That meant he would talk with the new Fuzzy.
The Fuzzy said something in a tongue Red Fur didn’t understand. He placed a hand on his ear then shook his head. The newcomer spoke again in a different language, this time he used Big One words.
“You talk like Big Ones?” Red Fur asked in surprise. He should have expected that since the new people had the made-things from the Big Ones.
The Fuzzy said, “Yes. The Big Ones call me Little Fuzzy. Name means ‘small person with fur all over’ in their language.”
“I am called Red Fur by Big Ones. In the language of my people I am called Bal-f’ke.”
Little Fuzzy nodded. Obviously Red Fur had contact with Big Ones before, or he would not know their language. “Are you the leader of these people?”
Red Fur had to think for a moment. Leader was like Wise One to the Big Ones. He learned that from Joe Quigley. “Yes. I am leader.”
“Then I am here to ask that you return Pappy Jack.”
Pappy Jack? “What is a Pappy Jack?”
“A Pappy is a Big One who cares for people like us,” Little Fuzzy explained. “Pappy Jack came here to make talk with you. Now he is here and we want him back.”
“You mean the Jack Holloway? Yes, he here. We want to make much talk with him.”
Little Fuzzy thought for a moment, then
said, “Hokay, make talk with him here, with me.”
“No. Big Ones kill many Jin-f’ke,” shouted Red Fur. “He stays with us.”
“Sometimes bad Big Ones do bad things to Fuzzies, but Pappy Jack punish them. Pappy Jack make bad Big Ones dead. I have seen this.” Little Fuzzy quickly recounted the events surrounding Goldilocks’ murder and the subsequent killing of Kurt Borch and, later, the death of Leonard Kellogg. “Pappy Jack wise one for all Fuzzies. Makes bad Big Ones dead if they hurt us.”
Red Fur soaked up the information and considered it. Jin-f’ke did not kill each other while Big Ones did. Would it be safe to form an alliance with such beings? Would it be safe not to? Either way, Red Fur could not simply hand over his prisoners to these new people. He would look foolish in front of his own people. He said as much to Little Fuzzy.
Little Fuzzy understood the Jin-f’ke leader’s position. The Wise One of any clan had to look strong and decisive or the clan would argue and sometimes separate. Red Fur needed something that the Big Ones called ‘a way out.’ Little Fuzzy quickly developed a plan.
“Red Fur, Wise One of the Jin-f’ke, I have many-many more people than you. We have weapons made by the Big Ones that are greater than yours. Our dogs are also strong and good hunters. If we fight, many-many Jin-f’ke will make dead.”
Red Fur had no doubt Little Fuzzy spoke the truth. The Jin-f’ke had no concept of lying. Still, he couldn’t back down. People fought or ran away. Surrender was also unknown until the Big One Jack Holloway explained it to them. A Fuzzy who surrendered to his environment made dead very quickly. It was too new a concept for them to readily grasp. The closest thing they had to that was admitting defeat when they fought and lost with another of the people.
“To save many-many lives, let two of our people fight,” Little Fuzzy continued. “If you win, we leave and do not come back until you ask us. If we win, you give us Pappy Jack.”
Red Fur thought quickly. It was a good idea to him. From what he could see, these new people were smaller than the Jin-f’ke. Still, they had wondrous weapons made by the Big Ones.
“Fight how?” Red Fur demanded. “You have Big Ones’ made-things.”
Little Fuzzy picked up his shiny chopper-digger and tossed it to Red Fur. Then he turned and waved for Ko-ko to come forward. “Your fighter use Big One weapon.”
Little Fuzzy planned on letting whomever Red Fur picked fight Ko-ko, the second best chopper-digger fencer he knew; Mitzi was too far away to call over quickly. Red Fur had a different idea.
“You Wise One for your people…Fuhzzees? I wise one for Jin-f’ke. We make fight.”
Little Fuzzy’s stomach did a flop. While he was a good fencer, Ko-ko and Mitzi were much better and he believed either one of them could easily beat any Jin-f’ke they might face. Little Fuzzy didn’t have the same level of confidence in his own abilities. Unfortunately, to refuse Red Fur’s challenge would weaken his position and possibly cause the bloodshed he hoped to avoid. Among their own people Fuzzies would occasionally fight, then make friends afterwards. Fuzzies never intentionally fought to the death, though accidents did happen. Was the same true of the Jin-f’ke?
“Hokay, Red Fur.” Little Fuzzy turned to Ko-ko and told him not to interfere and to honor the conditions of the duel.
“What about Pappy Jack?” Ko-ko demanded.
“When Jin-f’ke see that we do what we say, maybe they believe Pappy Jack is good Big One and let him go. If not, Unka Morgan will save Pappy Jack with his big-big aircar…uh…yacht.”
Ko-ko looked dubious but accepted Little Fuzzy’s plan. He didn’t want to kill any of the people here, either. Ko-ko would explain what was happening to the others. Little Fuzzy removed his backpack and had Ko-ko take Trigger back to the other Fuzzies; if the dog sensed that Little Fuzzy was in danger, he might interfere with the duel. Back home the Fuzzies never practiced their fencing in front of the dogs.
Red Fur explained to Makes-Things what to do if he lost the duel. The maker agreed. Before the Fuzzy stepped back, Red Fur had another idea and whispered in Makes-Things’ ear. The Fuzzy nodded and scampered away.
Before beginning battle, Red Fur asked that he be given a little time to familiarize himself with the shiny chopper-digger. Little Fuzzy agreed and took the time to warm-up before the duel.
Both Fuzzies covertly studied their opponent as they prepared. Red Fur was larger. Proportionately, there was as much difference in height between them as there would be between a five foot tall human and another man a full foot taller. Red Fur would have the advantages of reach and possibly strength. Little Fuzzy, however, was familiar with the metal weapons and trained in their use by Big Ones who were very wise in such things. Little Fuzzy understood the balance and use of the chopper-digger in ways that an untrained Fuzzy could not understand.
There was a disturbance among the Jin-f’ke that distracted Little Fuzzy. He turned and saw two Big Ones being escorted to the edge of the dueling ground. It was Pappy Jack and a strange Big One.
“Pappy Jack!” Little Fuzzy ran to meet his pappy only to be blocked by several Fuzzies.
“No,” Red Fur called out in the Big One language. “He here to watch. No talk.”
XXIX
The sudden absence of three hundred Fuzzies and their dogs did not go unnoticed by Morgan and George Lunt for long. Morgan was ready to follow the Fuzzies, only to be stopped by George.
“Uh-uh! Legally, the Fuzzies are fully within their rights to go anywhere they want on the reservation, even if it means getting into a fight with other Fuzzies. Federation law dictates that on native reservations the natives make and enforce their own laws. You,” — George jabbed a digit in Morgan’s direction— “are not a Fuzzy, nor are you an official member of the NPF or even Jack’s assistant. My job is to keep non-Fuzzy people out of the res; since you are clean-shaven and too tall by double, clearly you don’t pass the physical.”
Morgan extracted a document from a shirt pocket. “I have a signed permit to enter the reservation.” The younger Holloway had acquired the permit shortly after arriving on planet in case he needed to search on the reservation for his errant progenitor.
George took the paper, looked it over quickly, then returned it. “That is a standard research permit and does not apply in this instance. Permits are not issued to allow civilians access to hostile sites on the reservation. If you want to call the Governor, be my guest, but I’ll turn in my badge before I let anybody go snooping around and getting themselves killed on my watch.”
Morgan was torn between an urge to throttle the Major and admiration for his devotion to duty. It was easy to see why Jack picked him to head up the NPF. Morgan decided that the time for discussion was over. Since they were on his yacht he had the advantage.
“George, you understand that as the owner of this yacht, as long as it is not actually in full contact with the ground, my word is law, yes?”
The Major was thrown momentarily by the sudden shift in topic. “Within certain limits, yes. Why?”
“I just want that established so that nobody else aboard can be charged with any crimes for following my orders.”
“What?” Realization dawned just a second too late. “Wait!”
Morgan nodded and Thor Folkvar threw a bear hug around the surprised Major from behind and lifted him off the floor. George, trained in hand-to-hand, launched a vicious kick into the Magnian’s shin to no avail. Muscle and bone designed to withstand the heavy gravity of Magni easily absorbed the blow with no visible effect.
A second kick down to the larger man’s arch failed to connect at all; George was held too far above the floor, and as a consequence above Thor’s feet, to connect. The Major considered a reverse head butt, and decided against it. It might make Thor mad.
Realizing he was beaten for the moment, George relented and even made light of the situation. “Of course you realize, this means war.”
Thor almost lost his grip as he suppressed his own laughter. He was a b
ig fan of old Terran animated programs and Groucho Marx.
The joke was lost on Morgan, however. “Actually, I am hoping to prevent that.”
* * * * * * * * *
Of the ten known sapient races, only two were documented to be completely adverse to killing their own kind, Lokians and Fuzzies. Lokians barely even comprehended the concept of violence. Fuzzies comprehended and used violence on a daily basis to survive, but rarely against each other, and even more rarely to the death.
Fuzzies had been known to fight against each other and even have duels. Unlike Terran and Freyan societies, Fuzzy duels were not declared, did not involve seconds or referees, and were never intentionally to the death. Fuzzy duels were spontaneous and often over as quickly as they began. Afterwards, they almost always made friends. Almost always.
Little Fuzzy took a few deep breaths to steady himself for the coming battle. After his long association with the Big Ones, Little Fuzzy was a bit surprised that another Fuzzy could be so intimidating. Of course, Fuzzies never fought with Big Ones in duels; that was an everybody knows thing.
As he warmed up, a concept Little Fuzzy learned from the Big Ones, with his chopper-digger, he also watched Red Fur familiarize himself with the metal weapon. Red Fur quickly became comfortable with the balance and weight of it. It was clear the Jin-f’ke leader had some sort of training with a similar weapon.
Looking about, Little Fuzzy could see that the Jin-f’ke had chopper-diggers very much like what his own tribe used to use before Pappy Jack traded them for the shiny ones. The blade end was a little longer and narrower, while the paddle end had a wide tapered point instead of the flat shovel arrangement typical of the Southern Fuzzies.
Little Fuzzy returned his attention to Red Fur just as the Jin-f’ke leader started over in his direction. There was no doubt he was ready to begin the duel so Little Fuzzy assumed the neutral defensive posture. In Fuzzy terms his stance said he was ready for trouble, but not initiating it. Red Fur stopped two feet away and took up the same stance.
Caveat Fuzzy Page 28