Текст книги "Fuzzy Nation"

Автор книги: John Scalzi

Соавторы: John Scalzi
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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Fourteen

Isabel and Sullivan returned to Aubreytown later that evening, Sullivan jammed uncomfortably into the skimmer’s small passenger seat, which he shared with Isabel’s samples, notes, and remaining supplies. Holloway saw them off and noticed the Fuzzy Family did not seem horribly put out at their leaving. Either the creatures were not terribly sentimental or they simply were of the “out of sight, out of mind” variety. Carl seemed depressed Isabel was gone, however, and moped about. Not even Pinto tugging on his ears or Baby snuggling up to him cheered him up.

Three days later Holloway received a secure, confirmation-required notice that he was expected to appear at an inquiry in Aubreytown in eight days, to give testimony concerning the “fuzzys.” Holloway smiled. Isabel had indeed wasted no time getting the ball rolling.

A few minutes after he had received his summons, Chad Bourne was on the line. “You’re trying to get me fired, aren’t you,” he said, without preamble, when Holloway slapped open the voice-only circuit.

“Hello to you, too,” Holloway said. He was having his morning coffee. Papa Fuzzy, who Holloway knew was not in fact a papa, was sniffing curiously at the stuff in his cup.

“Cut the crap, Holloway,” Bourne said. “Why didn’t you tell me about these things?”

“You’re referring to the fuzzys,” Holloway said.

“Yes,” Bourne said.

“Why would I tell you about them?” Holloway said. “Do you want detailed reports on every animal I encounter? I live in a jungle, you know.”

“I don’t want reports on every single animal, no,” Bourne said. “However, a report on animals that might get all of us kicked off the planet because they’re this world’s equivalent of cavemen might be nice.”

“They’re not cavemen,” Holloway said. “They live in trees. Or did, until they colonized my house.” Holloway pushed the cup toward Papa, to let the fuzzy try the beverage.

“Jack Holloway, master of the absolutely irrelevant objection,” Bourne said.

“And anyway, they’re not people, which is why I didn’t bother telling you about them,” Holloway said. “They’re just very clever little animals.”

“Our staff biologist thinks otherwise,” Bourne said. “And no offense, Jack, but it’s possible she knows more about the subject than you.”

“Your staff biologist is very excited about a major discovery,” Holloway said, watching Papa sniff the coffee in greater detail. “And while she’s a biologist, she’s not actually an expert in xenosapience. Her having an opinion about whether the fuzzys are people is like a podiatrist having an opinion on whether you need your liver replaced.”

“Wheaton Aubrey doesn’t seem to have the same opinion,” Bourne said. “And you didn’t just have the future chairman of ZaraCorp stalking into your cubicle and screaming at you for ten minutes because one of your surveyors didn’t bother to tell you about discovering sentient life. I was already on his shit list for giving you point-four percent. Now I think I’m on his list of people to have assassinated.”

“Trust me, Chad,” Holloway said. “They’re not sentient.” Papa ducked its head and took a hesitant sip of the coffee.

“Are you sure about that?” Bourne asked.

Papa spit out the coffee and fixed Holloway with a look that said, There’s something wrong with you.

“Yeah,” Holloway said. “I’m pretty sure about that.” He picked up his coffee and took another sip.

“I want to come out and see these things for myself,” Bourne said.

“What?” Holloway said. “No way.”

“Why not?” Bourne asked.

“Well, for one thing, Chad, unless you’ve been holding out on me, you’re not an expert in either biology or xenosapience,” Holloway said. “Which means you’re just coming out to stare at the things. I’m not running a zoo here. For another thing, I don’t really want to spend that much time with you.”

“I can certainly appreciate that, Jack, but you don’t have much choice in the matter,” Bourne said. “Per your contract, as your ZaraCorp contractor rep I am allowed and in some circumstances even requiredto perform an on-site inspection to make sure your equipment and practices conform to ZaraCorp regulations. So, guess what, I’m coming out. I’ll be there in about six hours.”

“Lovely,” Holloway said.

“I’m as excited as you are,” Bourne said. “Trust me.” He broke the connection.

Holloway gazed down at Papa Fuzzy. “If I knew you were going to be this much trouble, I would have let Carl eat you that day.”

Papa Fuzzy stared back up at Holloway, unimpressed.

*

Bourne didn’t come alone.

“If he steps out of that skimmer I’m throwing him over the side,” Holloway said, pointing at Joe DeLise, who sat in the front passenger seat of the four-seat skimmer that had just landed at Holloway’s compound.

Wheaton Aubrey VII, stepping out of the back passenger compartment with Brad Landon, was taken aback. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

“Yes,” Holloway said. “I hate his guts.”

“I don’t think you like anyone in this skimmer, Holloway,” Aubrey said. “It’s not in itself a good enough reason to keep Mr. DeLise in his seat. I brought him because by company regulation I’m supposed to have a security detail when I leave Aubreytown. The board is touchy about me going into the wilds alone.”

“I don’t give a shit,” Holloway said.

“It’s very hot to be sitting inside a closed skimmer,” Landon said.

“So crack a window and give him a bowl of water,” Holloway said. “If he puts a foot on my property, I’m parting his hair with a shotgun.”

“You’re adding murder to your résumé, Mr. Holloway?” Landon asked.

“It’s not murder if he’s a trespasser on private property and he refuses to leave when told to,” Holloway said.

“He’s a ZaraCorp security officer, on a planet administrated by the company,” Aubrey said.

“Then he can show me his search warrant,” Holloway said. “If he doesn’t have one, he’s trespassing. And so are you and Landon, now I think about it. The only one with an actual invitation to be here is Chad.”

“So you’re going to shoot all of us, then,” Aubrey said.

“Tempting, but no,” Holloway said. “Just him. If you don’t think I won’t, by all means have him get out of the skimmer.”

Aubrey looked over to Bourne, who had stepped out of the front driver’s side of the skimmer. “I have no idea what this is about,” Bourne said.

DeLise did nothing but glare through all of this.

“Leave him your key fob,” Aubrey said, finally, to Bourne. “That way he can run the air conditioner.” Aubrey turned to Holloway. “All right? Or do you have any other unreasonable demands?”

“Is there a reason you’re here, Aubrey?” Holloway asked. He pointed at Bourne. “I know why he’s here; he wants a day at the petting zoo. What do you want?”

“Perhaps I’m curious about the creatures myself,” Aubrey said. “I might lose a fortune to them. I think I should at least get a chance to see them.”

“Sorry,” Holloway said. “They’re not here right now.”

“You didn’t keep them here?” Bourne said. “You knew we were coming.”

“I knew youwere coming,” Holloway said. “I wasn’t expecting an entourage. And no, I didn’t keep them here, Chad. They’re not my pets, they’re wild animals. They come and go when they please. After the first couple of days they started going back out into the trees. I imagine they’re doing whatever it is they did before I met them. Just like I come and go when I please, doing what I did before Imet them.”

“When will they be back?” Bourne asked.

“Let me reiterate the part about them being wild animals,” Holloway said. “It’s not like they leave me their day planner when they go.”

“Then maybe we can talk about something else,” Aubrey said.

“What else is there to talk about?” Holloway asked.

“Do you mind if we go inside to discuss it?” Aubrey said. “Because at this point I find it ironic that the only person sitting in air-conditioning is the guy you apparently want to kill.”

Holloway glanced at DeLise, who was still glowering. “Fine,” he said. “Come on.”

Inside the cabin, Carl greeted Bourne, whom he knew and liked, while Holloway discreetly repositioned his desktop security camera so it had a better angle on the outside world and Bourne’s skimmer, and tilted the hat so the camera could see outside.

“So this is the famous explosives-detonating dog,” Aubrey said, petting Carl.

“Alleged,” Holloway said. “Not proven.” He turned back to his guests and sat down at his desk.

“Of course,” Aubrey said.

“What do you want to talk about,” Holloway said.

Aubrey glanced over to Landon. “We have concerns about this upcoming inquiry into the sapience of these animals you’ve found,” Landon said.

“I would imagine,” Holloway said.

“We understand you’ve been called to testify at the inquiry,” Landon said.

“That’s right,” Holloway said.

“We’re wondering what you’re planning to say,” Landon said.

“I have no idea,” Holloway said. “I don’t know what the judge is going to ask me.”

“I would imagine that the judge would ask you to corroborate the report that Miss Wangai has submitted,” Landon said.

“That’s possible,” Holloway said.

“And will you?” Landon asked.

Holloway looked at the three men in his cabin. “I think we can skip the preliminaries here,” he said. “If they ask if I saw the things Isabel saw, then I’m going to say yes. Because I did. It doesn’t mean I agree with her that the fuzzys are people. If you’re thinking of trying to convince me not to agree with Isabel’s conclusions, you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t. What’s more, Isabel knows I don’t. So you don’t have to bribe me to say it.”

“That’s not good enough,” Aubrey said.

“It’s pretty damn good,” Holloway said.

“Not really,” Aubrey said. “She’s a biologist. You’re a surveyor. Her opinion counts for more than yours.”

“So what?” Holloway said. “I live with the damn things. Her opinion might be worth more than mine, but mine will be good enough to keep the judge from ordering ZaraCorp to submit an SSR right off. The worst-case scenario here is that the judge orders more study. If you play that right, that gets you two or three years right there before there’s any final decision on the fuzzys’ sapience. More than enough time to exploit that sunstone seam.”

“I understand you’re focused on the sunstone seam, Holloway,” Aubrey said. “But there’s more at stake than your half a percent. This planet is unusually heavy with metals and minerals, even beyond sunstones. It’s why there are sunstones in the first place. It’s the richest planet in ZaraCorp’s E and E territories. If we lose this planet, it puts ZaraCorp in a vulnerable position.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Holloway said. “There’s no reason I need to know any of that. It’s not myproblem, outside the very limited issue of the sunstone seam.”

“I’m telling you so you understand,Holloway,” Aubrey said. “Because it could becomeyour problem, if you want.”

Holloway looked over to Landon. “I’m guessing that’s your cue to speak.”

Landon smiled. He opened the folder he was carrying and walked the few steps to Holloway to hand him a paper document from inside it. Holloway examined the document. “It’s a map,” he said.

“Do you know what it’s a map of?” Landon asked.

“Yes,” Holloway said. “It’s a map of the northeast continent.”

“It’s a map of the one continent on Zara Twenty-three that ZaraCorp has not begun exploiting,” Landon said. “We only this last month received the go-ahead from the Colonial Authority to work the continent.”

“Okay,” Holloway said. “So?”

“So it’s yours,” Aubrey said.

“Excuse me?” Holloway said.

“Zarathustra Corporation is initiating a pilot program in which a single surveyor will be responsible for the exploration and exploitation of a continent,” Landon said. “This surveyor can handle the job however he wants, probably by operating exactly how ZaraCorp currently does in dealing with its surveyors. The difference is that the head surveyor will receive five percent of the exploitation revenues for his administration of the continent.”

“Minus operating costs and whatever percentage he allows his own contractors, of course,” Aubrey said.

“Yes,” Landon said. “So call it four-point-seven-five percent.”

Holloway grinned. “I suppose this means you’re not kicking me off the planet at the end of my contract,” he said.

“It would appear not,” Landon allowed. “If you agree.”

“And you’re keeping this from looking like a completely transparent bribe to me how?” Holloway asked.

“Because it reduces the amount of staffing ZaraCorp has to have on planet, which saves us money,” Landon said. “And also because the five percent contracting fee is tax-deductible.”

“ZaraCorp already pays almost nothing in taxes,” Holloway said.

“Call it insurance,” Aubrey said.

Holloway hooked a thumb at Bourne. “So I become a multibillionaire by doing hisjob,” he said.

“On a somewhat larger scale,” Landon said. “But, yes. Best of all, you can staff out the whole job. You don’t even need to be on planet. You can be back home on Earth, watching the revenues by the pool.”

“What do I have to do for all of this?” Holloway asked.

“Destroy Miss Wangai’s credibility,” Aubrey said.

“That’s not going to be easy,” Holloway said, after a minute. “Not to mention it will look really bad for you to give me a continent after this.”

“Give us credit for subtlety, Mr. Holloway,” Landon said. “We will wait an appropriate amount of time before we make the announcement. And Miss Wangai will not be punished in the slightest for asking for the inquiry, which by law she was required to ask for. Indeed, she will be promoted to head up one of our labs back on Earth.”

“Which is to say, kicked upstairs, far away from here and the fuzzys,” Holloway said.

“You’ll do something good for her career for once,” Aubrey said. “She’ll get kicked upstairs, you’ll get kicked upstairs, even Bourne here will get kicked upstairs.”

Holloway looked at Bourne. “Really,” he said.

“Well, sort of,” Aubrey said. “We told him he could work for you. Figured you’d be motivated to take care of him.”

“I suppose I would be,” Holloway said. Bourne, for his part, looked thoroughly miserable, as he had through the entire conversation. He knew he was being used as cover for Aubrey’s trip out to Holloway’s compound, and knew what happened to little people caught in the middle of big people’s plans. Holloway almost pitied him. “So that takes cares of the humans,” he said. “What about the fuzzys?”

Aubrey shrugged. “If they’re important to you, take them with you to the continent,” he said. “Give them their own reservation. Whatever. ZaraCorp will even chip in for a ‘save the fuzzys’ fund. Make us look good to the folks back home. Just as long as no one gets the idea these things are people.”

“Isabel has video of the fuzzys,” Holloway said. “Secure and unmodifiable video, showing them doing things she believes indicate sentience.”

“You taught your dog to blow up things, Mr. Holloway,” Landon said.

“It’s not the same thing,” Holloway said, seeing where Landon was going and echoing Isabel’s arguments to him. “And if you’re suggesting I say Isabel taught the fuzzys tricks to perpetrate a hoax, I’m curious how you think you’re then going to be able to turn around and promote her.”

“She didn’t train the fuzzys, you did,” Landon said. “Admit to the judge that you trained the animals to do these things before Miss Wangai arrived. We’re not disputing the animals are smart. You could easily have taught them how to do these things. Say that you perpetrated an innocent hoax. As a prank. She was taken in and filed a request for an inquiry before you could come clean. That way she’s completely blameless, and you just look like you were playing a mean but innocent joke.”

“It’ll make me look like an asshole,” Holloway said.

“Everyone thinks you’re an asshole anyway, Holloway,” Aubrey said. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Holloway said.

“Besides, for the amount of money we’re talking about, you can afford to be an asshole,” Aubrey said.

“Well, when you put it that way,” Holloway said.

“Mr. Holloway, this is a very serious offer,” Landon said. “There’s too much at stake here. This inquiry has to end with the judge ruling against our filing an SSR. Every other option is failure. You have the power to get the right ruling here for everyone.”

“Sure,” Holloway said. “And all I have to do is make Isabel look like a fool.”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, Holloway, but you’ve done that before, haven’t you?” Landon said, nodding at Bourne. “Mr. Bourne here tells us that you sold her out before during an inquiry. She said you taught your dog to blow things up. You called her a liar. You didn’t have a problem with it then, when the only thing at stake was your surveyor contract. Now that you have the potential to become one of the richest men in the universe, you might have some extra motivation.”

“I suppose I might,” Holloway said.

“Good,” Aubrey said. “Then we have a deal.”

“I have to emphasize, Mr. Holloway, that we were never here,” Landon said.

“Of course not,” Holloway said. “Only your cover man Bourne was here, and he just came out to see the animals.”

“We understand each other fully,” Landon said.

“Oh, we do,” Holloway said. “We really do.”

Chapter Fifteen

When his guests had left, Holloway reached over for his infopanel and punched up the feed from the security camera. If any of the three men who had been in the house had seen the camera, they didn’t note it, which was just as well since Holloway planned it that way. There was a reason he kept the hat on the camera stand.

For the first several minutes the video showed nothing but the skimmer with Joe DeLise in it, fiddling with the dash buttons and the key fob and generally looking bored. Holloway fast-forwarded through this and then slowed down the feed when something popped up on the hood of the skimmer. Holloway zoomed in; it was Pinto, the rambunctious fuzzy.

Pinto walked over to the windshield of the skimmer, clearly curious about the human inside. The human inside appeared to view the fuzzy sourly. Pinto pressed its little face against the glass to get a better look at DeLise. DeLise smacked the inside of the glass with his hand.

Pinto drew back, startled, but then seemed to realize that the human smacking the glass was not any sort of trouble for it. Pinto smooshed its face up to the glass again. DeLise smacked the glass again. This time Pinto didn’t move. DeLise smacked the glass a third time, and again. Holloway zoomed in on DeLise’s face; he was yelling. The skimmer was too far away to pick up the words, and the microphone had been muted in any event.

Holloway frowned at this. He’d had the security camera on DeLise, but having an audio record of what was said in the cabin would have been useful insurance. He must have accidentally hit the microphone’s mute button when he moved it to get a better angle on the outside. Nothing for it now.

Holloway zoomed out again to see Pinto, back away from the glass now, watching the yelling DeLise with interest, perhaps wondering why the human didn’t get out of the skimmer and try to catch it or hurt it. After a few minutes, after DeLise calmed down, the fuzzy moved up to the glass again. DeLise was resolutely ignoring the little creature.

Pinto turned around, squatted, and very deliberately rubbed its ass on the glass, right in front of DeLise’s face.

DeLise exploded into rage, leaning back into his seat to kick up at the windshield. Apparently only DeLise’s absolute certainty that Holloway would blow his head off with a shotgun kept him in the skimmer. Otherwise Pinto would have been dead meat at this point.

Holloway tracked back the video to watch this part again, a huge grin on his face.

Moving forward again, Pinto looked up, as if calling to someone or something. Sure enough, a minute later another fuzzy showed up on the hood of the skimmer: Grandpa. The two of them stood on the hood as if they were holding a conference on something, and then Pinto rubbed its butt on the windshield again, prompting another kick against the glass from DeLise.

Grandpa Fuzzy, clearly not impressed, whacked Pinto across the head and pulled the smaller fuzzy off the glass, then pushed it off the hood. Pinto took off for the nearest spikewood. Grandpa then turned and looked back at DeLise, walking up to the glass to do so. DeLise spat and fumed.

After several moments of this the fuzzy appeared to reach a decision, squatted, and rubbed its own ass against the glass. Then it slowly walked off the hood of the skimmer as if it were taking a Sunday stroll. Holloway laughed out loud, alarming Carl.

Holloway fast-forwarded past several minutes of DeLise doing nothing, then stopped again when the security guard’s three fellow travelers returned to the skimmer. At the sight of them, DeLise opened the front passenger door and risked taking a step out of the skimmer to stand up and start yelling at them as they approached. This was followed by a minute or two of DeLise gesticulating and pointing toward the spikewood Pinto and then Grandpa had climbed up when they departed. Aubrey and Landon briefly walked over to glance up at the spikewood, as if to look for the creatures. Then they returned to the skimmer and the vehicle lifted off, going out of frame several meters above Holloway’s platform.

Note to self: Give Pinto and Grandpa a beer the next time you see them, Holloway thought. He wouldn’t actually give them a beer; he tried giving a little to Papa and Mama Fuzzy once, just to see how they liked it, and they had both spit it out. Fuzzys liked water, preferably from the running faucet, which still fascinated them, and fruit juice. Every other liquid they gave a pass. But in this case, it would be the thought that counted. Anyone who didn’t like DeLise was all right by Holloway at this point, regardless of species.

Anyone,said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Isabel.

Holloway shook it off. Yes, anyone,but that didn’t mean the fuzzys were sentient. Carl was someone, too, but that didn’t make him the equivalent of a human. It was entirely possible to think of an animal as a someone—as a person—without attributing to them the sort of brainpower that accompanies actual sentience.

Holloway glanced down at his dog, splayed out on the floor. “Hey, Carl,” he said. Carl’s eyebrows perked up; well, one of them did, anyway, giving the animal a rather unintentionally sardonic look.

“Carl, speak!” Holloway said. Carl did nothing but look at Holloway. Holloway never taught him the “speak” trick. The idea of having a dog intentionally bark its head off for no particular reason never appealed to him.

“Good dog, Carl,” he said. “Way to not speak.” Carl snuffled noncommittally and then closed his eyes to get back to sleep.

Carl was a good dog and good company and not a sentient creature in any standard that would matter to the Colonial Authority. Neither were chimpanzees or dolphins or squids or floaters or blue dawgs or wetsels or punchfish or any other number of creatures who were clearly more clever than the average animal species and yet still not quite there. In over two hundred worlds explored, only two creatures matched up to human sentience: the Urai and Negad, both of whom shared enough common examples of big-brained activities that it would have been impossible not to ascribe them the sentience humans had.

Well, no, not impossible,some pedantic part of his brain reminded him. In both cases, there was a substantial minority of the exploration and exploitation industry community who argued against their sentience. Both Uraill and Nega (formerly Zara III and BlueSky VI) were rich enough in resources that it was worth their time to take a stab at it, particularly in the case of the Negad, whose civilization at time of contact was roughly equivalent to the hunter-gatherer tribes of the North American continent around 10,000 B.C. Pointing out to E & E lawyers that by their standards they would deny sentience to some of their direct ancestors didn’t seem to bother them any. Lawyers are trained to disregard such irrelevancies. The Negad didn’t read, didn’t have cities, and only arguably had agriculture. Three strikes and they were out, as far as the E & Es and their lawyers were concerned.

Holloway picked up his infopanel again and backed up the video feed once more to watch Pinto and Grandpa. If the E & Es would argue against the Negad, they would have a field day with the fuzzys. No cities, literacy, or agriculture here, either, as well as no language, no tools, no clothing, and apparently no social structure beyond the family unit—or something close enough to it given their weird unisexual biology that it was a distinction without difference.

It would be better for them not to be sentient, Holloway thought. Just because they were sentient wouldn’t be a guarantee they’d be recognized as such. Not when so many people had such a vested interest in them not being so. Better to be a monkey and not be able to understand what’s been taken from you, than to be a man and be able to understand all too well—and be helpless to stop it.

Carl scrambled up from the floor and headed to the cabin door, tail wagging. He poked his snout at the dog door, swinging it out slightly. It was caught by something, which held it open, and Carl backed away.

A second later the Fuzzy Family made its way through, back from whatever small, furry adventure they had been having with their day. Each of them greeted Carl with a pat or a rub, with the exception of Baby, who wrapped itself around Carl’s neck for a hug. Carl tolerated this well, and gave Baby a lick when it disentangled itself from him.

Papa Fuzzy walked over to Holloway and stared up at him in that way Holloway knew was the fuzzy telling him it required his assistance. Holloway, thus reminded of his role as fuzzy butler, grinned and followed the creature into the kitchen area, where Papa stopped at the cooler. Holloway, who knew the fuzzy was capable of opening the cooler if it chose, appreciated that it was asking permission. He opened the cooler.

“Well, go on,” Holloway said, motioning. The fuzzy dived in and a few seconds later hauled out the very last of the smoked turkey.

“I don’t think you want that,” Holloway said. “It’s on the verge of going bad.” He took the turkey from the fuzzy, fished out the last two remaining turkey pieces, and held them up for Carl, who was passionately interested. “Sit,” he said to Carl, who sat with an altogether enthusiastic thump. Holloway tossed the turkey to Carl, who snapped it out of the air and swallowed it in about a third of a second.

Papa watched this and then turned to Holloway and squeaked. Holloway assumed the squeak to mean I’m sorry, but I must kill you now.

Holloway held up his hand. “Wait,” he said, and went into the cooler, pulling out a second package. “My friend,” he said, holding out the package to the fuzzy, “I think it’s time to introduce you to a little something we humans call ‘bacon.’”

Papa looked at the package doubtfully.

“Trust me,” Holloway said. He closed the cooler and went looking for a frying pan.

Five minutes later, the smell of bacon had attracted all the Fuzzys and Carl, who stared up at the cabin’s tiny stove with rapt attention. At one point Pinto attempted to climb up to snatch some semi-cooked bacon out of the pan; it was pulled down by Mama and handed over to Grandpa, who smacked the younger fuzzy across the head. Head-smacking was apparently Grandpa’s major mode of communication with Pinto.

Soon enough, six strips of bacon were cooked and sufficiently cooled for consumption. Holloway handed each excited fuzzy a bacon strip and kept the last one for himself. Carl, sensing the abject injustice of a situation in which everyone had bacon but him, whined piteously.

“Next batch, buddy,” Holloway promised. He peeled off the next batch of strips and turned to place them into the pan. He turned around again to see how the Fuzzys were enjoying their cured, nitrated treat, and saw Papa Fuzzy holding out a piece of its bacon to a very attentive Carl. Papa squeaked. Carl sat. Holloway smiled at the fact that Papa Fuzzy was trying to copy what he’d done with the turkey.

Papa opened its mouth again. Carl instantly lay down. Papa opened its mouth a third time and Carl rolled onto his back, tongue lolling out. Papa tossed the bacon piece to Carl, who gobbled it up greedily. Then it continued to enjoy the rest of its treat.

A spatter of bacon grease on Holloway’s arm brought his attention back to the fact that he was still actually cooking food. He finished up the second round of bacon, distributing it equally among the Fuzzys and Carl, each of whom was delighted at the second serving; bacon had now clearly replaced smoked turkey as the king of all meats, at least for the Fuzzys. Holloway put the rest of the uncooked bacon into the cooler, cleaned and stowed the pan, and then walked back over to his desk and picked up his infopanel.

When Isabel departed, she had left Holloway a set of her videos and notes concerning the fuzzys, partly as a courtesy and partly for archival purposes. If anything happened to her set of data, his set would probably still be fine. Holloway accessed the data now, calling up video files in particular. He fiddled with them, changing some of the presentation parameters.

He did this for the next several hours.