Fuzzy Nation (21 page)

Pause, close, open another video. In this one Mama Fuzzy was grooming Baby Fuzzy. The noises coming from Mama Fuzzy in this one were different from the noises in the other videos: softer, more sibilant.

“My god,” Isabel said. “Mama’s
singing
.”

In the video Baby Fuzzy added its voice to Mama Fuzzy’s, the two creatures joined in harmony. Everyone watched and listened to the video for a moment.

Then Holloway paused the video and looked over to Isabel. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wangai,” he said, walking to her. “But this is yet another case of your observational skills failing you. You knew, I presume, that Zara Twenty-three creatures could hear above the human hearing range, which implies quite strongly that they or other creatures make noises above that range as well. Yet, just as you let my assertion of the fuzzys’ genders get past you, so you also worked from the implicit assumption that speech for the fuzzys would be like speech for any other sentient species—something you could hear. And thus, the most important part of your argument for the fuzzys’ sentience—their ability to speak—went unheard and unobserved.”

Holloway held out Isabel’s infopanel to her. She took it, shaking.

Holloway turned to Meyer, who was looking at him with the same expression she might have if he had stripped naked right there in the courtroom. “And this is how I misled Isabel, Ms. Meyer, Your Honor,” he said, turning briefly to nod in the direction of the similarly shocked-looking Judge Soltan. “I mentioned that the last time I spoke to her I told her I didn’t believe the fuzzys were sentient, because I didn’t. But then I saw one of the fuzzys make my dog sit and lie down and roll over—vocal commands. I couldn’t hear them, but I remembered that other animals here heard higher frequencies, just like my dog could. So I went back through the data and found the fuzzys had been speaking all along.

“I misled Isabel by not telling her this,” Holloway said. “And thus by making her think that I disagreed with her about the sentience of the fuzzys, when in fact over the last few days I have become completely convinced of it. They speak, Ms. Meyer, Your Honor. They speak and discuss and argue and sing. That’s not a trick you can fake, no matter how clever an animal you are, or how clever you, as a human, might be with training animals. These aren’t just animals. These are people.

“And Dr. Wangai,” Holloway said, turning to Isabel again, “I was wrong. I was wrong to keep this information from you, and for allowing you to enter into this inquiry without all the facts you needed to defend your assertion, and for allowing anyone to cast doubt on your reputation. It was wrong. I was wrong for ever doing it or for ever allowing it. I am sorry.”

Holloway turned away from Isabel and sat back down in the witness stand.

“I’m done with my presentation,” he said, to the judge.

Chapter Eighteen        

“This proves nothing,” Meyer said, once she had gained enough composure to begin again.

“It proves that we can’t immediately discount the idea that the fuzzys have speech,” Holloway said. “That’s something. It’s something fairly big.”

“You could very well have taught them to make these sounds,” Meyer said.

“Are you suggesting that I created a hoax so byzantine that it includes teaching animals to speak something no one could hear?” Holloway said. “To what end, Ms. Meyer? If it was a trick to fool Isabel, then it failed, because she didn’t know of it until just a couple minutes ago.”

“It’s a hoax to put the Zarathustra Company in an uncomfortable financial position,” Meyer said.

“Then it’s a hoax that also puts me in an uncomfortable financial position, because I stand to lose billions if the fuzzys are deemed sentient,” Holloway said. “I have a very distinct and obvious reason to hope the fuzzys are simply animals.”

Meyer opened her mouth; Holloway held up his hand. “I know where you’re going next,” he said. “The only possible way this does me any good is if I’ve somehow set things up to short ZaraCorp stock on the market, in the hope of reaping the benefit when the stock price falls. But to forestall such an argument, I’m willing to give Judge Soltan complete access to all my financial and communication data for the last couple of years. She’s more than welcome to have forensics experts go through the data to look for evidence that I’m trying to manipulate ZaraCorp stock. But I can tell you right now that she won’t find it. My only financial holdings at this point are the royalties ZaraCorp automatically puts into my account at the Zarathustra Corporate Bank. I think I earn half a percent on that annually.”

“But we have no way of knowing if these sounds are speech!” Meyer said. “You’re a surveyor, not an expert on xenosapience. And we’ve already established that Dr. Wangai has no formal training in xenosapience. Neither of you can even knowledgably guess at what those sounds mean.”

Holloway saw Isabel’s eyes widen; she knew the hole Meyer had just fallen into. Holloway smiled. “You are quite correct, Ms. Meyer,” he said. “So I suggest we let someone who
can
knowledgably guess give an expert opinion. I suggest we call Arnold Chen.”

“Who?” Meyer said.

“Arnold Chen,” Holloway repeated. “He received his doctorate in xenolinguistics. University of Chicago, I believe. He works in the same office as Dr. Wangai. Just down the street from here. I understand he was mistakenly assigned to Zara Twenty-three. Lucky for us he’s here.”

“Is this correct?” Soltan said to Meyer.

“I don’t know,” Meyer said. She was thoroughly confused by the course of events.

“Excuse me, Your Honor,” Isabel said. “Jack’s correct. Dr. Chen is a xenolinguist. He’s also likely to be in his office right now.”

“Doing what, exactly?” Soltan said.

“That’s a good question, Your Honor,” Isabel said. “I’m sure Dr. Chen would like to know what he’s supposed to be doing as well.”

“Let’s bring him in,” Soltan said.

“If I may make a suggestion, Your Honor, have one of your clerks bring him in, rather than one of ZaraCorp’s people,” Holloway said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Meyer asked.

“I think given the circumstances there is a reasonable chance someone might attempt to coach the expert,” Holloway said. “I can think of some examples in my own experience where such a thing was attempted.”

Meyer kept quiet after that one, lips thinned.

“Fine,” Soltan said.

“I’d also suggest not telling Dr. Chen why he’s been called,” Holloway said. “Let him experience the video clean.”

“Yes, all right,” Soltan said, irritated. “Any more suggestions on how I should do my job, Mr. Holloway? Or are you done now?”

“Apologies, Your Honor,” Holloway said.

Soltan eyed Holloway sourly and then turned to Meyer. “Are you finished with this expert?” Soltan asked.

“I have nothing more to say to Mr. Holloway,” Meyer said. She eyed Holloway like he was a bug.

“Mr. Holloway, you are excused,” Soltan said. “We’ll take a fifteen-minute break while my clerks retrieve Dr. Chen.” She got up and went to her chambers. Meyer packed up her notes, flung them at her assistant, and stormed out of the court, assistant scrambling to catch up. Holloway noted that Landon had disappeared as well, no doubt to catch up his boss on the events of the day.

Holloway got out of the stand and was surprised to find Isabel in front of him. “Hello,” he said.

Isabel very suddenly gave him a large hug. Holloway stood there and took it, surprised; it had been a while since he had more physical contact with her than a polite peck on the cheek. Indeed, when Isabel stopped hugging him, she planted a kiss on his cheek that was more than polite. It was actually friendly.

“Apology accepted,” she said, stepping back. Sullivan by now had come up behind her.

“Well, good,” Holloway said. “Because if you didn’t accept that one, I would have given up.”

“Thank you, Jack,” Isabel said. “In all honesty and sincerity, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Holloway said. “If it turns out the fuzzys are actually people, I’m going to be broke and out of a job, and then me and Carl are showing up on your doorstep.”

“I’ll be sure to give Carl a good home,” Isabel said.

“Oh, nice,” Holloway said, and looked over to Sullivan. “You see how far good deeds get you in this life,” he said to him. Sullivan smiled but said nothing. He looked distracted. Isabel gave Holloway another quick peck and then did the same to Sullivan before leaving the courtroom.

Holloway turned his attention to Sullivan. “I’m out of the doghouse,” he said.

“If only you had managed it while the two of you were still dating,” Sullivan said.

“Yes, well,” Holloway said. “Let my misfortune be your example, Mark.”

“Jack, you and I need to talk,” Sullivan said.

“Is this about Isabel?” Holloway asked.

“No, not about Isabel,” Sullivan said. “It’s about everything else.”

“That’s a lot,” Holloway said. “I don’t think we have time to cover everything else besides Isabel in the next five to ten minutes.”

“No, we don’t,” Sullivan said. “Let’s you and I go have a talk at the end of this little farce.”

“Farce?” Holloway said, mock shocked. “This is a sober application of judicial wisdom.”

Sullivan cracked a smile at this. “I don’t mind admitting to you that this is going differently than I expected,” he said.

“I don’t think you’re the only one thinking that at the moment,” Holloway said.

*   *   *

Dr. Chen was ushered into the courtroom by one of Soltan’s clerks. The xenolinguist looked confused, and depending on one’s observational inclinations, either freshly awoken from a nap or slightly drunk.

“Dr. Arnold Chen?” Judge Soltan asked.

“Yes?” Chen said.

“We are calling you to give testimony on a video that concerns a subject you are knowledgeable about,” Soltan said.

“This is about the other night, isn’t it?” Chen said. “I admit I drank too much, but I didn’t have anything to do with the rest of what went on.”

“Dr. Chen, what are you talking about?” Judge Soltan said, after a minute.

“Oh, nothing,” Chen said, hastily.

Soltan peered at Chen. “Have you been drinking today, Dr. Chen?”

“No,” Chen said. He looked embarrassed. “I was, um.”

Soltan looked over at her clerk. “He was asleep at his desk when I found him,” said the clerk.

“Late night, Dr. Chen?” Soltan said.

“A bit, yes,” Chen admitted.

“But you are able to
think
right now?” Soltan asked. “Your brain processes are not currently compromised by alcohol or any other drug, recreational or pharmaceutical?”

“No, ma’am,” Chen said. “Your Honor. Um.”

“Have a seat at the witness stand, Dr. Chen,” Soltan said. Chen took a seat. Soltan glanced over at Holloway. “You’re up, Mr. Holloway,” she said.

Holloway stood and borrowed Isabel’s infopanel once more, and opened a pipe between it and the monitor. “Dr. Chen, I’m going to show you a video,” Holloway said. “Don’t worry, the events of the other night aren’t on it.”

Chen looked at Holloway blankly.

“Just watch the video and give us your impressions of it as it goes along,” Holloway said. He queued up the video of Papa, Mama, and Grandpa Fuzzy eating the bindi.

“What are those?” Chen asked, looking at the still image. “Are those monkeys? Cats?”

“You’ll see,” Holloway said, and started the video.

Chen watched for a minute, thoroughly confused. Then it was like a 50,000-watt light went on in his head.

Chen looked up at Holloway. “Can I?” he asked, motioning to the infopanel. Holloway glanced at Soltan, who nodded. He handed the infopanel to Chen. The xenolinguist grabbed it and reversed the video and played the first parts again. He turned up the volume to hear better. He moved the video back and forth for several minutes.

Finally he looked up at Holloway. “You know what they’re doing,” Chen said.

“You tell me, Dr. Chen,” Holloway said.

“They’re talking!” Chen said. “My god. They’re really talking.” He looked back at the monitor. “What are these things? Where did you find them?”

“Are you sure they’re talking?” Meyer asked from her table.

“Well, no, I’m not
one hundred percent
sure,” Chen said. “I’m just going from what you’re showing me here. I’d need to see much more to be certain. But, look—” He paused the video and backed it up slightly, and ran it again. “Listen to what they’re doing here. It’s phonologically varied but it’s not random.”

“What does that mean?” Holloway asked.

“Well, look,” Chen said. Whatever sleepiness he’d had in him was well and truly shaken off now. “Take birdsongs. They repeat with very little variation. Phonologically they’re very consistent. They’re not what we typically consider language. Language uses a limited number of phonological forms—phonemes—but then it uses them in an almost infinite number of combinations, according to the morphology of the language. So, varied but not random.”

Chen pointed to the conversing fuzzys. “What these little guys are doing is like that. If you listen, you can hear certain forms used over and again. Here—” Chen moved the video to another portion, where Papa Fuzzy was speaking. “—that
tche-
sound. It comes up a lot, but it’s joined to other sounds as well. Just like we use particular phonemes over and again, particularly ones that represent vowel forms in our language.”

“So this is a vowel?” Holloway asked.

“Maybe,” Chen said. “Or maybe a prefix, since just listening here it always seems to precede other sounds. I couldn’t tell you what it means or represents.”

“So it could just be noises they make,” Meyer said. “Like a cat’s meow. Or a birdsong.”

“Well, neither cats nor birds vocalize just to vocalize,” Chen said, sounding slightly snotty. Holloway grinned. After years of having not a goddamn thing to do, Dr. Chen’s brain was back with a vengeance. “And no, I don’t think so. Your cat has a different sound for ‘I’m hungry’ and ‘I want out of the house’ but its vocabulary is not what you would call complex nor does the sound in itself convey complex meaning. Same with birdsongs. What these creatures are doing—the variation but apparently within a system—suggests that the sounds are words in themselves.” Chen looked up. “Is there more video?”