Fuzzy Ergo Sum

by Diehr Wolfgang

  “We’re hoping it isn’t a parasite or something catching,” Gerd added. “We’ll know more soon, I hope. We should pay more attention to what our own Fuzzies eat, especially the reservation crowd. No telling what they might have brought in from the wild.”

  “Good idea, Gerd. As soon as we know what to look for, we’ll start looking for it. Back to this Darloss business, it seems to me that a simple DNA analysis would decide the matter pretty quick,” Jack offered. He again fumbled for his pipe but left it in his pocket. It wasn’t fair to smoke in front of Gus for the time being. “Compare the Fuzzies to almost anything else on the planet and the matter will be settled.”

  “Maybe not,” Gerd put in. “If the Fuzzies did come from another planet then they must have been here for thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of years. After breathing the air, eating the local wildlife and just generally existing under the same sun as everything else on this planet their DNA may have drifted a bit to be closer to that of the indigenous life-forms. You are what you eat, so to speak.”

  “Is that even possible?” Jack asked.

  “DNA does change over time,” Ben said, “mostly through mutation. If it didn’t we would all still be microscopic one-celled organisms. All living creatures adapt to their environment or die out. Fuzzies would have developed the same mutations as other Zarathustran wildlife, hence similar DNA strands. There is only about a two percent difference in DNA between a man and almost any other Terran mammal. About ninety-eight percent of your DNA is just to get you up and running as a viable life form. The last two percent or so determines what form that life will take.”

  “Is this theory or fact?” asked Jack.

  “Well, mostly theory on the adaptive DNA,” Gerd admitted. “We haven’t been around and out in space long enough for a practical test. We would have to take a group of animals from one planet, drop them on another and track the changes, if any, over several millennia. The animals with the correct mutations would thrive while those that didn’t would die out. The available DNA in the species would determine the survival rate and any mutations that enhanced their survivability would become the species norm. Since only the positive mutations would be adaptive to their environment it might mirror the DNA of the indigenous species.”

  “Like the Martians,” Ruth added.

  “What do you mean by that?” Gus asked.

  Gerd looked to the ceiling and spread his arms in mock exasperation. “Here it comes.”

  “Here what comes?” Ben asked.

  “You are about to learn our secret shame. My darling wife, Ruth, is a closet Martianist.”

  Ruth gave Gerd a little punch on his arm. “Actually, I just keep an open mind.”

  “Martianist?” Jack looked first to Gus, who shrugged and shook his head and then to Ben who put a ‘don’t ask me’ look on his face.

  “The Martianists were a small cult that started on Mars Colony,” Gerd explained. “But they’ve been growing the last couple of decades. These crackpots compared Terran DNA to samples taken from those mummified Martians discovered back in, oh, late first century Atomic Era, I think.”

  “They found only about a point zero two percent deviation between Martian and Terran DNA,” added Ruth.

  “Is that a lot?” Jack asked.

  “On the contrary,” she said, “There is about a one percent deviation between humans and chimpanzees. Point zero two percent is barely a difference at all.”

  “So? We were similar,” Gus stated. “We’re pretty close to Freyans, too.”

  “Ah,” Ruth said with a gleam in her eye. “There is only a point zero one five percent difference between Martians and Freyans. And about a point zero two five percent deviation between Terran and Freyan.”

  “Meaning that humans and Freyans could have interbred with Martians,” Gerd added. “But wait; here comes the kicker.”

  Ruth shot a ‘you’re going to get it later’ look at Gerd, then continued. “Well, the extremely close genetic structures between Freyans and Martians has given rise to speculation that the Freyans may actually be the Martians, but adapted to conditions on Freya.”

  “Oh, come on,” Ben exclaimed.

  “This conclusion assumes facts not in evidence,” Gus said. “That is like saying all poodles are dogs so all dogs must be poodles.”

  “I read in a scientific journal that the Martians would have been dark skinned due to the intense radiation,” Ben added. “Mars lost its planetary magnetic shield and much of its atmosphere long ago, so they lacked for protection against cosmic and ultra-violet radiation. But Freyans tend to be fair skinned and light haired.”

  “There’s a helluva lot less UV getting through Freya’s atmosphere, from what I remember,” Jack told him. “If Martians did land there, I would imagine, they would have adapted.”

  “That’s right, Jack. Just like the tribes that migrated from Africa to Northern Europe did. But, wait,” Gerd said. “It gets better.”

  Ruth shot another look at Gerd then continued. “Well, from there the theory goes that since Freya is very similar to Terra and Terra was a lot closer, then Martians must have settled on Terra first by several thousand years. That would explain the greater Terran genetic deviation than the Freyan.”

  “If they did where are they now?” Gus asked.

  “You’re looking at them,” Jack said. “Am I right, Ruth?”

  “Bull’s eye.” Ruth nodded.

  “Now wait a minute,” Ben said. “We know Martians had atomic power but there is zero evidence that they ever developed a hyperdrive engine.”

  “How much evidence could there be after, what, fifty-thousand years?” Gus asked, switching over to play devil’s advocate. “For all we know the thing might have gone straight from the drawing board to the workshop, or even been a government secret.”

  “Well, I’ve never been to Freya myself,” Ben said, “but everybody who has, swears up and down that Freyan women are even more beautiful than Terran women are.”

  “I have been to Freya, and I would have to say that’s pretty much the case,” Jack said. “Present company excepted.”

  “Seconded,” Gus added.

  “Nice save,” Ruth said with a smile.

  Ben continued, “Well, if we are all one big happy Martian family shouldn’t Terran woman be considered equally as beautiful to our eyes?”

  “I choose to think they are,” Gerd said, as he rubbed his arm and glanced at Ruth.

  “Smart man,” she offered, with a wink. “The Martianists believe that the Terran Colony might have mixed with the indigenous sapient race. The Neanderthals.”

  “This is the part that really makes my head hurt,” Gerd groaned. “We are able to breed with Freyans because Terrans and Freyans all came from Mars but we look slightly different because we swapped a few genes with some primitive monkey-boys which should be impossible since they weren’t Martians in the first place.”

  “Science does hold that some genetic exchanges between Cro-Magnon and Neanderthal man may have occurred,” Ben offered, “but how would that be possible if Cro-Magnons came from Mars?”

  “That takes us back to environmental adaptation,” Ruth said. “If the Martians lived, say, ten or twenty thousand years on Terra adapting to the gravity, eating the local cuisine, breathing the air and toiling under the Terran sun they might have enjoyed, or suffered, depending on your point of view, a DNA shift that would make them compatible with the indigenous peoples…provided they were fairly close to begin with.”

  “Using that logic,” Gus countered, “Terrans and Fuzzies could become compatible in about a hundred thousand years.”

  “Fuzzies are a bit further away from us, genetically speaking, than a Neanderthal might have been,” she countered. “Unfortunately, science is still on the fence whether humans and Neanderthals ever mixed. The DNA debate has been going on since first century A.E.”

  “About a decade after the human genome was mapped some scientists managed to map the
Neanderthal genome,” Gerd pointed out. “They found possible evidence that humans and Neanderthals mingled and mated about 80,000 years ago.”

  “I think there is another issue we should consider,” Ben Rainsford said. “If we find evidence that Fuzzies really did come from another planet, how would that affect the colonial government and the Charterless Zarathustra Company?”

  “What do you mean?” asked Jack.

  “He means that the Charatered Zarathustra Company lost their charter because this is now a Class IV inhabited planet,” explained Gus, quick on the uptake. “If the Fuzzies turn out to be space immigrants the Charterless Zarathustra Company could argue that their charter was taken illegally since the Fuzzies never filed a claim of ownership to this world.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Jack said. “They were here first; it’s theirs, period.”

  “I wouldn’t bet the farm that the courts would see it the same way,” Gus replied.

  “Victor Grego is a businessman,” Jack pointed out. “When he was fighting to keep control of Zarathustra it was to defend his bottom line. Now, he has nothing to gain by rocking the boat. He’s smart enough to know when to hold ’em, and when to fold ’em.”

  “I’ll call Leslie Coombes and see what he thinks,” Gus said. “He’s way ahead of me when it comes to charter law. Just the same, I would feel a lot better if something like this had come out before and was dealt with. If something comes of this, it would be the first time I ever went to court without a lot of citable precedents.”

  “Hey, this is purely academic,” Ben said. “Isn’t it?”

  “For now it is” Gus answered. “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  VIII

  “Who authorized that interview on my station?” Victor Grego asked. He was entertaining Leslie Coombes, Ahmed and Sandra Khadra, Dr. Mallin, Juan Jimenez, the Company Police Fuzzies and Leslie Coombes’ Fuzzies when Diamond scampered in saying that a Big One on the vid was making talk about Fuzzies. Grego said that was nice until Diamond asked what an astronaut was.

  This piqued everyone’s interest enough to stop socializing and join the Fuzzies in watching the program. The show was called “Tuning In with Tuning.”

  “Couldn’t the other quasi-primates have died off as a matter of natural selection?’ asked the interviewer, Bill Tuning. “On Terra the Neanderthals died out when Cro-Magnon came on the scene.”

  “Certainly,” Professor Darloss countered, “yet countless varieties of apes and monkeys still exist in the wilds of Africa and South America. Where are the cousins of the Fuzzies, Mr. Tuning?”

  “If they suffered from the same procreation problems caused by the NFMp hormone they might have died out fairly quickly,” Tuning countered. “If not for the land-prawns Fuzzies would have become extinct as well. If they were ancient astronauts it would be a pretty extreme coincidence that the only means to their racial survival just happened to be on the same planet they landed on.”

  “That’s enough of that rubbish,” Grego said, switching the station to a western show. “Diamond, this is a better program. Much more fun.”

  “Hokay, Pappy Vic.” Diamond started to explain to the other Fuzzies about the cowboys, Indians, bounty hunters and gunfighters in such programs, all of whom agreed that shooting the bad Big Ones was a good idea.

  “Tomorrow I am going to have a talk with the station manager and ask him what that was all about,” Grego fumed.

  Sandra Khadra didn’t understand what the problem was. “It was just another anthropologist with a crazy theory, wasn’t it?”

  “The problem,” Juan Jimenez said, “is that some people will believe it, including stockholders. That could open up a very large can of worms.”

  “How so?” Ahmed asked.

  “First, every scientist the Home Office could round up would descend on Zarathustra like a swarm of locusts all looking for proof that Fuzzies aren’t native to this planet. The evidence, no matter how tenuous or circumstantial, would be turned over to the legal department. Next would come the years of court battles trying to prove that the CZC charter had been revoked illegally.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Victor, but don’t you want to regain control of the planet?” Sandra asked.

  “Two years ago, yes. Now, not so much,” Grego replied. “Not with the lease that gave us back everything we had when we owned the planet outright, more or less. If Home Office decides to try to get the planet back by arguing that Fuzzies came from a different world, well, not only could we be tied up in court for several years but the current lease could be broken in the process.”

  “Meaning,” Coombes interrupted, “that the Company will not be able to administer any of the holdings recovered in the lease until the court issues are settled and either the Company resumed control of the planet or a new lease agreement is signed.”

  “Well, in the long run wouldn’t the company profit by getting back the planet?” Ahmed Khadra asked.

  “Only if we outlast the current lease,” Grego said. “We can’t even be sure the Company would be around that long. Nifflheim, the Federation could collapse before then! As I see it, the only people who could benefit from rocking the boat are our competitors. Or stock speculators.”

  “Speculators?” Sandra and Ahmed said in unison.

  “If stock drops while the Company’s position is tenuous, speculators could buy up outstanding stock at low prices and then make a killing after the dust is settled and the stocks rebound,” Coombes explained. “In fact, already existing stockholders would certainly take the opportunity to increase their holdings within the Company.”

  “Then it would turn into a power-play to gain control over the Company,” Grego interjected. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there weren’t a few stockholders who would take a less Fuzzy-friendly approach to management, here.”

  “There is another aspect to the whole thing,” Coombes said. “Let’s say that it is proven in court that Fuzzies came from another planet. Fine. They still enjoy certain protections under Federation law. Any habitat that is provably theirs will still be nixed from external exploitation.”

  “I don’t speak legalese, Leslie,” Sandra put in. “What does that mean in laymen’s terms?”

  “It means that all lands that can be proven to be the Fuzzies’ ancestral homes will be off-limits until a treaty can be worked out and signed by them,” Ahmed supplied.

  “No sunstone mining operation, no farming, no anything,” Jimenez added.

  “How would a Fuzzy prove he owned or used any land?” Sandra argued. “They don’t have any kind of documentation. They couldn’t even write until we taught them!”

  “They would get the ‘first come first served’ treatment. Back on Terra Pre-Atomic era gold miners would make a pile of stones or just drive a wooden stake into the ground to show their claim to an area. That is probably where the expression “stake a claim” comes from. Fuzzy funeral Cairns would carry the same weight in a court of law as almost anything else,” Victor Grego explained. “Even if we got ownership of the planet back, most, if not all of Beta continent would become Fuzzy land. No sunstone mining, no nothing.”

  “There was a case like that on Magni. Two separate groups made planet-fall on opposite sides of the planet. Both groups mapped out a continent, planted a flag and then returned to Terra to file their claims; each completely ignorant of the other. The short story is that the group that made it back to Terra first got the planet after a long court battle and the second group got ownership of the second continent.” Coombes took a drink then added, “Eventually the two groups came together to become the Chartered Magni Cooperative.”

  “So the Fuzzies would retain ownership of Beta continent?”

  “Most likely, Sandra, the Fuzzies would get ownership of the planet and the CZC would only get Alpha. And anybody taking a Fuzzy off of Beta could be charged with kidnapping, enslavement and God only knows what,” added Coombes. “I’ll check with Gus Brannhard; the man has an en
cyclopedic knowledge of precedents in colonial law. There is a good chance that all adopted Fuzzies would have to be returned to Beta as well.”

  “What?” Sandra Khadra was horrified at the thought of Fuzzies being ripped away from their adoptive families and her face showed it. “Why?”

  “Because a space faring race, even one that has been marooned on a planet and lost all their technology and history,” Grego said, “couldn’t possibly be considered incompetent aborigines, let alone minor children in the eyes of the law, at least not without a few decades of intensive scientific study and more court rulings.”

  “Is this really all possible?” Ahmed Khadra asked. “This was just an interview with one crackpot scientist who only has a hypothesis. How much trouble can he cause?”

  “A hypothesis that sounds very convincing, Ahmed,” Grego said. “It’s just a matter of time before more so-called scientists jump on the bandwagon hoping to make a name for themselves.”

  * * * * * * * * *

  Dr. Hoenveld rarely watched network television. He preferred the documentary, history and science channels. He was flipping between the History and Science channels when he noticed the interview with Professor Darloss. Out of curiosity he stopped and watched the interview. By the time the interview was over, Dr. Hoenveld was outraged. He decided to do something, but didn’t know what. After some thought, he concluded that he would have to go to Juan Jimenez, his boss, the man promoted over him.

  * * * * * * * * *

  “Now that was an interesting piece of journalistic legerdemain.”

  With the canopy up and the robots doing most of the grunt work, the leader had called for a break. Past experience taught him that exhausted men were prone to error, something they couldn’t afford on their current venture. As such, the men were gathered for a little vid time. Occasional entertainment also helped to keep them sharp.