Fuzzy Nation

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?” “Lots more,” Holloway said.

Chen looked like a kid getting a puppy for Christmas. “Excellent,” he said.

“Dr. Chen,” Soltan said. “Is this language? Is this speech?”

“Are you asking for a determination?” Chen said. “Because I don’t have enough data.” “Guess, then,” Soltan said.

“If I had to guess, then, yes, sure,” Chen said. “And not just because of phonology and apparently morphology. Look at how the creatures react and respond to each other in this video. They’re clearly listening attentively and responding, not with rote or instinctual sounds, but with new patterns of sound. If it’s not language—if it’s not speech—then it’s something very close to it.” “Does it warrant further study, in your opinion?” Soltan asked.

Chen looked up at the judge like she was stupid. “Are you kidding?” he asked.

“You’re in my courtroom, Dr. Chen,” Soltan growled.

“I apologize,” Chen said. “It’s just that this is tremendously exciting. This is the sort of thing that you pray for as a xenolinguist. What are these things? Where are they from?” “They’re from here,” Holloway said.

“Really?” Chen said. Then it hit him. “Oh,” he said, looking around the room. “Oh. Wow.” “Yes,” Holloway said. “Oh, wow.”

Soltan looked over to Meyer. “Any other questions for Dr. Chen?”

Meyer shook her head. She could see where this was going. Soltan excused Chen; Holloway just about had to tear the infopanel from his grip.

“Based on the information provided today, I’ve decided there is not sufficient cause to order the Zarathustra Corporation to file a Suspected Sapience Report,” Soltan said, after Holloway and Chen had sat down. “However, these creatures are from all evidence clearly something more than just animals. Whether they rise to the level of true sapient beings is a determination that no one here, with all due respect to Drs. Wangai and Chen, is able to state definitively. If there was ever a case in need of additional study, this would be it.

“I will be filing a request with the Colonial Environmental Protection Agency, under whose auspices sentience determination is administered, to dispatch the appropriate experts here for additional study and to make a decision regarding the sentience of the ‘fuzzys.’ Until that time, the Zarathustra Corporation will continue its normal operations, with the understanding that it will now conform to CEPA guidelines regarding exploitation of disputed worlds. I’ll be posting the inquiry ruling later today. Any objections, Ms. Meyer?” “None, Your Honor,” Meyer said.

“Then this inquiry is adjourned,” Soltan said. She rose and disappeared into her chambers.