“I am ready, Big One’s Friend,” Red Fur said.
Little Fuzzy took note of the fact that the Jin-f’ke leader did not use the name Pappy Jack gave him. Fuzzies did not typically use insults beyond calling someone foolish, nor did Little Fuzzy consider this to be one. Most likely it was some custom among the Northern Fuzzies, he decided.
Without further preamble, the two Fuzzies started moving in a slow circle, each searching for a weakness in his opponent. Red Fur jabbed at Little Fuzzy with the point of his weapon only to have it easily parried. It was not a serious attack. The Northern Fuzzy was testing Little Fuzzy’s defenses. A second thrust was side-stepped and Little Fuzzy swung his own chopper-digger at Red Fur. The bare edge of the blade struck a forearm leaving a barely noticeable scratch. Both Fuzzies concluded that they had the range of the other and the attacks began in earnest.
* * * * * * * * *
Jack Holloway wanted to scream at the duelists to stop. He refrained for fear of distracting Little Fuzzy at a crucial moment. As a duelist himself Jack knew that even a mild distraction could get somebody killed; most likely the somebody you didn’t want to see hurt.
What the Nifflheim were the res Fuzzies doing up here, anyway, thought Jack, especially Little Fuzzy? And what was the damned duel about anyway?
Jack suspected that Little Fuzzy was fighting to get him released. He could hardly blame the Fuzzy. Jack would, and had, done much the same when his family had been seized as evidence and incarcerated at Science Division way back in the days before Fuzzies were proven to be sapient. Clearly, Little Fuzzy had learned from his Pappy Jack’s example.
If you don’t want the kids to learn something, Jack thought, don’t teach it by word or deed.
Unable to stop the fight, Jack settled in to watch with great interest. He sized up Red Fur and watched how he moved and reacted. The Fuzzy was larger, to be sure. Not much by human standards but a couple of inches made a big difference to a Fuzzy. Jack suspected Red Fur would be stronger, too. In the wild Fuzzies had to fight and work very hard to stay alive. The res Fuzzies had it easy for the last two years.
Mental Note: Strength training for Fuzzies, get more equipment and instructors.
As the duel progressed, Jack could see that it wasn’t as one-sided as he feared. What Little Fuzzy lacked in size and strength, he made up for in speed, training and experience. The Fuzzy used the pugil-stick adapted skills to block and counterattack.
Jack actually laughed out loud when Little Fuzzy landed a solid blow with the balancing ball on the chopper-digger into Red Fur’s abdomen. That was a move an untrained Fuzzy wouldn’t think of as it wasn’t a killing move.
Mitzi or Ko-ko would likely have made short work of the Jin-f’ke leader. They were the two best chopper-digger fencers on the res. Still, Little Fuzzy was more than holding his own. Besides, it was a very rare thing for one Fuzzy to kill another, Jack told himself. Hopefully, that applied to the Northern Fuzzies as well.
Jack was just starting to believe that everything would be okay when Little Fuzzy did a maneuver that sent Jack’s heart into his throat.
XXX
Red Fur started to swing more wildly. Little Fuzzy easily dodged the attacks though he couldn’t get close enough to properly retaliate. The greater reach of the Jin-f’ke put him at a disadvantage. The duel could go on indefinitely until one or the other became exhausted and made a crucial error. Little Fuzzy was afraid that Red Fur could outlast him, so he took a chance.
It took several more swings and parries before Little Fuzzy saw the opportunity he needed. Red Fur swung just a touch too high, allowing Little Fuzzy to dive under the blade, roll, then launch a kick into his opponent’s midriff. Taken by surprise, the Fuzzy doubled over, allowing Little Fuzzy to swing the ball end of his weapon up into Red Fur’s head.
Stunned, the Jin-f’ke leader fell back. Before he could recover, Little Fuzzy was up and holding the point of his blade at Red Fur’s throat. The choice was obvious: admit defeat or die. Red Fur didn’t get the chance to decide.
The Jin-f’ke, seeing their leader down with a point to his throat, ignored their orders and swarmed down to rescue their leader. The res Fuzzies, at first slow to act because they were completely surprised by the apparent betrayal, also swarmed forward. Much of the martial training and the newer weapons, bows, atlatls and rifles, were forgotten by both sides as the two forces clashed. It was all chopper-diggers, teeth and claws.
The Curtys, trained not to hunt or attack Fuzzies from birth, whined in confusion as their masters jumped to the ground to meet the Jin-f’ke forces without them. Lacking a guiding hand, the dogs barked and snapped but stayed out of the actual fighting. One Jin-f’ke, perhaps thinking to elevate his status as a great hunter and fighter, attacked a dog with his wooden chopper-digger, only to be pounced upon and pinned to the ground. The Curtys growled fiercely, but refrained from mauling the Fuzzy; his training wouldn’t allow it.
Another dog jumped to the defense of his fallen master by moving between the injured Fuzzy and his Jin-f’ke attacker. While it was believed by many that Fuzzies were timid creatures that would rather run than fight, the truth was very different. Fuzzies would run to escape an animal they couldn’t beat to keep from being killed. When cornered, even by a damnthing, a Fuzzy would go down swinging. Such was the case for the Jin-f’ke. Faced with an animal many times his size and mass, the Fuzzy chose to fight rather than run. Part of the decision was influenced by the fact that he knew he could not outrun the strange beast.
Still, he swung his wooden chopper-digger at the dog’s muzzle hoping to either hurt it enough to have a chance or even frighten it off. Instead, the dog snapped the weapon up with his powerful jaws and crushed it with ease. Another thing known about Fuzzies is that they are very smart. The Jin-f’ke was no exception. He turned and ran. The dog, less interested in chasing the Fuzzy than protecting his master, held his ground and threatened any who came near with barks and growls.
Red Fur, allowed to stand as Little Fuzzy backed away, tried to stop the fighting. Though he yeeked with all his might, his voice was lost in the clamor about him. Never before had Fuzzies done battle among themselves on such a scale. All about him people were being wounded and killed. It was a never before seen thing that made the first appearance of the Big Ones pale in comparison.
Red Fur turned to Little Fuzzy and screamed, “We stop this!”
“How?” Little Fuzzy screamed back.
The two leaders yelled and tried to stop the fighting among those closest to them with little success. No sooner would they separate two combatants, than several more would engage them drawing them back into the fight.
The Fuzzy leaders were at a loss for what to do when a thundering sound intruded on the battle. It was a noise none of the Jin-f’ke had ever heard before. Even the res Fuzzies were startled. Looking up, a great round thing hovered above the battlefield. It looked like a new moon to most of the Fuzzies.
* * * * * * * * *
Jack was horrified when the fighting broke out. He wanted to rush forward and stop them. Only his Fuzzy guards with the poison-tipped arrows prevented him from running into the thick of things. He had also been in enough battles to know that, unarmed as he was, he would only get himself killed. He wouldn’t be able to do anybody any good as a corpse.
Then the music started blaring overhead. Jack looked up and saw the hyperspace yacht floating down over the battlefield. That would be Morgan, Jack realized. It also explained how the army of res Fuzzies came to his rescue so quickly. Full-grown man or not, he is going over my knee!
The music, Ride of the Valkyries by Wagner, appropriately enough, was having the desired effect. Everywhere Jack looked the Jin-f’ke were scrambling for cover and the res Fuzzies attended to their dead and wounded. Uncountable howls filled the air as the dogs reacted to the sonic assault on their sensitive ears. Or maybe some of them were mourning the loss of their masters.
Jack, relieved of his guards as they, too,
ran off in fear, walked down to the battlefield in search of Little Fuzzy. Twice before he thought Little Fuzzy had been lost to him. Three times was beyond endurance.
“Little Fuzzy! Little Fuzzy!” Jack called out over and over. He was on the verge of despair when he felt a tugging at his trouser leg. Jack looked down to find Ko-ko. There was a moment of relief combined with heartache when he saw it wasn’t Little Fuzzy. “Ko-ko! Thank Ghu, you’re okay. Where is Little Fuzzy?”
“Little Fuzzy this way, Pappy Jack.” Ko-ko scampered off and Jack quickly followed.
* * * * * * * * *
“Seriously?” Thor Folkvar said. “Ride of the Valkyries?” He shook his head in disgust.
Captain Zeudin raised an eyebrow. “What would you have used?”
“Oh, Detroit Rock City by Kiss,” replied the Magnian. Archaic heavy metal was very popular on his homeworld. “The car crash sound effect near the end would have caught a lot of attention down there.”
Zeudin had never heard of it. “The what by the who?”
“Not the Who…that was an earlier group, though Won’t Get Fooled Again would have been a good choice, too. Ah, Nifflheim. At least you didn’t play any of that stuff from Freya.”
Zeudin was about to protest the slight to his home world when Morgan interrupted. “Lower the ramp and get some medical assistance down there. There are a lot of injured Fuzzies. Major Lunt, if you can refrain from arresting me until we finish here, you will be welcome to come down and help me find Jack.”
George agreed and joined Morgan, Thor and a number of the crewmen as they went down to the ground. Among them were the Thoran security team, the Lokian, Gimlian and Kronkeenk, the Ulleran. There were also a number of the mutated Freyans as not all of them had settled on Zeta, yet. As they scrambled down the ramp, even the rez Fuzzies were surprised at the variety of sapients as they had not seen them on the flight up.
Thor Folkvar spotted Jack at the edge of the clearing sitting on a large rock. He appeared to be talking to two Fuzzies. Thor waved to Morgan and George and pointed out the correct direction. Once there, Thor received a bit of a shock, though not as severe as the one Morgan got.
Jack stood up and punched Morgan in the jaw, sending the younger Holloway sprawling on the ground. George looked at Morgan, then Jack, and then turned to Thor.
“Is this some sort of weird Freyan greeting?” the Major asked.
“More like a spanking, I think,” Thor replied.
“Damn straight it is,” Jack snarled. He turned to Morgan and added, “You’re just lucky they don’t have hickory trees on this planet. But I’m going to start planting some real soon, so just you watch it!”
Morgan, head still reeling from the blow, managed to get back on his feet. “I came to rescue you….”
“I didn’t need rescuing, damnit! I surrendered so I could get a dialogue going with Bal-f’ke, here.” Red Fur took notice of Jack’s use of his proper name. “You’re just lucky Little Fuzzy wasn’t hurt or I’d drag you back to Terra by the ear and find that hickory switch right now.”
Morgan’s face lit up with the realization that he had queered Jack’s plan. Rather than defend his actions or apologize, he stood quietly. Red Fur leaned over to Little Fuzzy and asked if all Big Ones behaved like that. Little Fuzzy had to admit he saw Pappy Jack beat one other man bloody, but that was after he killed Goldilocks.
Pappy Jack returned his attention to the Fuzzy leaders. “Bal-f’ke, as the Wise One for the Big Ones, I want us to make friends. My people can help yours in many ways.”
Little Fuzzy nodded and pulled a tin out of his backpack. “Yes. Big Ones give estee-fee. Give shoppo-diggo made of steel. Teach us many-many new things.”
Red Fur looked at the tin of extee three in distaste. “Not want esteefee. Big Ones and Jin—Fuhzzeez very different. How can be friends?”
Morgan heard the exchange and had an idea. He motioned Thor Folkvar over and whispered in his ear. The large Magnian nodded and trotted off. He returned several seconds later with select crew members and altered Freyans.
Red Fur, still arguing his position, stopped mid-word when he saw Kronkeenk approach. The Thorans, Lokians, Gimlians and altered Freyans, while interesting and unusual, were not as shocking to the Fuzzy. The Ulleran was so far beyond anything any Fuzzy had ever seen it made them doubt their senses. Red Fur fell backwards yeeking in surprise. Even Little Fuzzy was amazed.
Morgan stepped forward and spoke. “These are beings from other worlds, Bal-f’ke. We live and work and even play together. And we help each other. Sometimes we argue or fight; we are not perfect. We also have those among us who are bad. When we find them, we punish them.”
“My zpezies works wit’ dese hoomans on my world,” Kronkeenk said.
“Bad…Big Vuns?...did bad t’ings to mine pipple. Goot Big Vuns are now helping us, Herr Red Fur,” added Wolfram, one of the mutated Freyans. “My pipple owe Herr Morgan much for his help. He und his fat’er are goot Big Vuns.”
Each of the alien races gave an account of their experiences with the humans—some good, some bad. They were honest and spoke to the Fuzzies as equals. They also explained about the advances in technology and standard of living. Much of what they said was incomprehensible to Red Fur.
Jack turned to Red Fur. “I have talked to the other Big One you captured. His people did bad things and they will be punished. I ask that you let us take this man to answer for his crimes.”
A lot of what was said to him was difficult to understand. Red Fur got the gist, though. Big Ones want to be friends. Big Ones want to help Jin-f’ke. Most importantly, the Fuhzzeez wanted their Big One back.
“I make talk with my people,” Red Fur said. “You take Joe Quigley, now.”
“Really?” Joe couldn’t believe his luck. He didn’t care what happened to him as long as he was away from the Fuzzies.
“Yes. The Jack Holloway say you be punished for Sun Fur making dead and other…things I not understand. I give you to Jack Holloway for this.” Red Fur turned to Little Fuzzy. “We not want Big Ones here. We only speak with you.”
Little Fuzzy nodded. “Hokay. I make talk for Pappy Jack and the Big Ones.” He turned to Jack. “We go, now?”
Jack nodded. “Yes. We go.”
“I go, too,” a Fuzzy said. “The Joe Quigley calls me Thor. I would see these things Little Fuhzzee make talk of.”
“Another Thor?” Morgan said. He noticed the crude bandage on the Fuzzy’s shoulder. “Okay, Thor. If Red Fur say okay, you come. And we can find others who are hurt and help them.”
“Strong One…Thor want go, he go,” Red Fur said. “I not say who stay or go.”
XXXI
“I’m not going to take you into custody, but you will be charged,” George Lunt said.
Morgan nodded. “I hope no charges will be brought against Thor Folkvar, Major.”
George looked across the room at the large Magnian. Thor had acted on Morgan’s orders. Failing to do so could have gotten him fired, and he didn’t hurt anybody. George hated seeing people put in rock and hard place positions. “No, I see no point in that. I’ll settle for your hide.”
Jack and Little Fuzzy watched the by-play from the bar next to Thor, both of them drinking a decaffeinated tea. Jack considered intervening and decided against it. Morgan was a big boy and didn’t need daddy to get him out of a jam.
“You’re not thinking of apologizing to him, are you?”
Jack turned to Thor. “For what?”
“That punch you handed him. You didn’t pull it any, either, as far as I could tell.” Thor finished the mead from his ridiculously oversized stein and gestured for a refill. As the robot complied, Thor Folkvar ruffled the Fuzzy’s head. “You probably understand Freyan culture better than I do, but I think if you apologize it will embarrass him far more than the punch itself.”
Jack nodded. “Yeah. Fathers don’t own up to their mistakes there. Hell, we usually don’t on Terra, either. No, no apology. I don�
��t do something I don’t mean to do, and I don’t say I’m sorry for it afterwards. Morgan’s actions resulted in that little war we just saw. Some Fuzzies were killed and a helluva lot more were wounded.”
“How many?”
“What? Killed? I think five or six. Wounded, I have no idea. Morgan might since his medical team treated most of them.”
Thor took a long drink from his refill. “There were, what, five hundred odd Fuzzies out on that battlefield, plus three hundred dogs, right?”
Jack nodded.
“Only half a dozen were killed!”
“Yes. Mostly Jin-f’ke, I think,” Jack said, “Fuzzies, as far as anybody knows, never had a war before. As soon as the Jin-f’ke attacked, everybody threw down their bows and spears and rifles and went at it with chopper-diggers. They treated it like a mass duel. As soon as one opponent went down wounded, he was ignored and the winner went on to pick a fight with somebody else. Nobody was double-teamed, and no coup de grace on a downed Fuzzy. It was the most civilized battle I had ever seen. And I’ve seen enough to know what I’m talking about.”
Thor snorted in his drink, shooting froth over the bar. “Civilized battle. I don’t think those two words have ever been used together like that in all of human history. Frankly, I was surprised the dogs didn’t jump in and rip the Northern Fuzzies to pieces.”
“Larry Wolvin trained them too well for that. A Curtys will attack anything his master tells him to except another Fuzzy. Even another human.”
“What?” Thor set his stein down. “Any one of those dogs looks like they could rip a man’s throat out in a heartbeat. They weigh, what, about a hundred and twenty pounds Terran Standard? Why wouldn’t you train them not to attack humans?”
Jack shook his head sadly. “Because humans aren’t as civilized and well-behaved as Fuzzies. If a bad Big One messes with a Fuzzy, he needs to be able to protect himself. Even those .22 rifles we gave them aren’t much defense against a large human with a pistol. I’ll bet it would take a full clip just to bring you down.”
Caveat Fuzzy Page 29