Fuzzy Nation (6 page)

“Of course it is,” Isabel said. “More accurately, it’s telling me what
not
to research. Unfortunately, if I’m not cataloging lizards on this planet, I’m not doing much of anything else. I’m going to end up like Chen.” Chen was the xenolinguist.

Holloway moved his head, motioning to the data card. “This will keep you busy,” he said. “I guarantee it.”

Isabel looked at the card doubtfully but walked forward and extended her hand. “I’ll take a look at it,” she said, taking the card. “You’d better not be wasting my time, Jack.”

“I’m not,” he said. “I’ve learned not to do that, at least.”

“Good,” Isabel said. “It’s nice that you got something out of the relationship.”

“It’s not currently much use to me on a day-to-day basis,” Holloway said. “Seeing that you’re in town all the time now.”

“Well, life is like that sometimes,” Isabel said. “We learn things too late, and then we don’t get to use them.” She looked at Holloway.

“I
am
sorry,” Holloway said.

“I know,” Isabel said. “Thank you, Jack.” She gave him another peck on the cheek, friendly again, but no more than that. “And now I really do have to go. You’ve made me late for my lunch appointment.” She patted Carl again and walked off, hurrying.

Holloway watched her go for a few minutes and then reached down and clicked the leash back on Carl’s collar. “I think that went well,” he said to Carl. “All things considered.”

Carl looked up at Holloway with what he judged was a fair amount of dubiousness.

“Oh, shut up,” Holloway said. “It wasn’t
all
my fault.”

Carl and Holloway turned their eyes back down the street just in time to watch Isabel turn the corner and disappear.

Chapter Six        

“You’re late,” Bourne said on the steps of ZaraCorp’s administrative building. Holloway came alone; he’d taken Carl back to the skimmer, gave him a zararaptor bone, and turned on the air circulator.

“I was catching up with someone,” Holloway said.

“Saw Isabel, did you,” Bourne said. “You two still antagonizing each other?”

“Funny, she asked me the same question about you,” Holloway said.

“I bet,” Bourne said. “You know, Jack, I’m not one for reading too much into things, but even I can see that when you name a hill for your girlfriend, and then you have that hill strip-mined down to rubble, it’s not a good sign for the relationship.”

“There’s a reason I don’t come to you for advice about my love life,” Holloway said.

“Fair enough,” Bourne said. “I hear she’s seeing someone new.”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” Holloway said.

“Yeah, one of the new administrative group that transferred planetside a few months ago,” Bourne said. “A lawyer. Assistant general counsel. If you and I had gone to court, he’d probably have been the one that would have gutted your claim like a fish.”

“Sounds like a nice guy,” Holloway said.

“Well, you know,” Bourne said. “The general consensus is that Isabel traded up.”

“I thought we were late,” Holloway said, changing the subject.

“
You’re
late,” Bourne said. “But I figured you’d be late, because that’s just the sort of antagonistic prick you are. So I told you to come twenty minutes earlier than I needed you here.
We’re
right on time. Now come on.” He walked up the steps.

“This place is as lovely as ever,” Holloway said, once they were inside the building. On Earth, the Zarathustra Corporation’s headquarters in Dayton, Ohio, were considered to be one of the major architectural achievements of the last century. On Zara XXIII, light-years from the need for public relations and corporate gamesmanship, the local headquarters were a nondescript block of cheap and durable building components designed to house staff efficiently and without undue expense.

“I love what you’ve done with the cubicles,” Holloway said. “I didn’t know you could still get fluorescent lights.”

Bourne ignored this and kept walking, forcing Holloway to follow. “Listen, Jack,” he said, glancing back at his guest. “I know you and I have our problems, but if you can, I want you to behave yourself at this meeting.”

“Why this particular meeting?” Jack said.

“That seam you found,” Bourne said. “It’s big.”

“I know that, Chad,” Holloway said. “I found it, remember?”

“No,” Bourne said. They had arrived at the door of a meeting room. “You think you know. But it’s bigger than even
you
think it is. It’s attracted a lot of attention here and back home already. It’s become a
priority
.”

“What does that mean?” Holloway said.

“Promise me, Jack,” Bourne said. “As the contractor who found the seam, you have a vested interest, and we’re required by the E and E charter to keep you in the loop with everything. And I will. But you have to promise me that you’re going to behave yourself.”

“Or what?” Holloway said, genuinely curious.

“There’s no ‘or what,’ Jack,” Bourne said. “This isn’t just you and me sticking each other with pins to see who screams first anymore. I’m not threatening you. I’m not making demands. I’m
asking
. Please. Behave.”

Holloway was quiet for a minute. “You say this find is big,” he said, to Bourne.

“Yeah,” Bourne said.

“How big?” Holloway asked.

“So big that if I didn’t happen to be your ZaraCorp handler, the only way I’d even get to be
near
this meeting is if I was told to bring in some sandwiches,” Bourne said.

“This is different from your daily life how?” Holloway asked.

“Jesus, Jack,” Bourne said. “Are you even listening to me?”

“It was a joke,” Holloway said.

“You’ve told better ones,” Bourne said, and then noticed the sudden smile on Holloway’s face. “What?”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard
that
today, too,” he said.

“Jack,” Bourne said.

“Relax, Chad,” Holloway said. “I hear you. I’ll behave. I promise.”

“Thank you,” Bourne said.

“But after all that, this meeting better live up to the billing,” Holloway said.

“Well, you tell me,” Bourne said. He opened the door to the meeting room. Inside was the entire upper echelon of the local ZaraCorp management.

“Okay, that
is
impressive,” Holloway muttered to Bourne. Bourne didn’t respond.

“And here is the man who just made Zarathustra Corporation’s annual report that much brighter this year,” said Alan Irvine, ZaraCorp VP and Planetary Director for Zara XXIII. He smiled and got up from his chair to shake Holloway’s hand, and gave him a too-hearty slap on the back. “Mr. Holloway. You are most welcome here.”

“Thanks,” Holloway said.

“Please, sit,” Irvine motioned to an empty chair at the table. There was only one; Bourne, apparently, would spend the meeting standing, along with a series of other underlings who unobtrusively lined the walls. “I assume you’re familiar with the rest of the crew here.”

“Yes,” Holloway said, and nodded generally down the table. “I’ve been to the ZaraCorp holiday parties.”

“Of course you have,” Irvine said. “I seem to recall you on the arm of that biologist of ours. Warner?”

“Wangai,” Holloway said.

“That Indian?” Irvine asked.

“Kenyan,” Holloway said. “By way of Oxford.”

“Right,” Irvine said. “Still seeing her?”

“Saw her earlier today,” Holloway said.

“Wonderful,” Irvine said. He turned and motioned to one person in particular. “Here’s someone you
don’t
know, though. Mr. Holloway, this is Wheaton Aubrey the Seventh. He’s doing a tour of the ZaraCorp divisions and properties and happened to be here when you called in this claim. You may recognize the name.”

“Sure. One very much like it is on all my checks,” Holloway said. He could sense Bourne stiffening up behind him. This was very close to not behaving. Fortunately a small ripple of laughter went around the table at the comment.

“So it is,” Irvine said. “And likely not too far in the future, it’ll be
his
signature there.”

“Hopefully later rather than sooner,” Aubrey said in a tone that to Holloway did not suggest that the former was in fact all that much more preferable than the latter. Aubrey turned in his seat to face Holloway. “I see from your file you went to Duke.”

“Law school, yes,” Holloway said.

“I was there for undergrad,” Aubrey said. “Class of ’18.”

“We missed by three years,” Holloway said.

“It’s not every Duke JD that ends up in the wilds of a Class Three planet,” Aubrey said.

“It’s a long story,” Holloway said.

“I would think so, considering it apparently involves disbarment,” Aubrey said. “That’s never a quick thing to explain, is it?”

Holloway looked at Aubrey, with his pleasant, sun-tousled features, notwithstanding the famously beakish Aubrey nose, which Holloway guessed had never once been punched in for its owner being a smug dick. “No, it’s not,” he said. “But inasmuch as this particular long story ends up with me getting rich and you and your family getting even richer, I don’t suppose either of us can complain about it too much.” He smiled at Aubrey.

After a moment, Aubrey smiled back. “Indeed not,” he said. He turned toward Irvine, who had watched the exchange between Aubrey and Holloway with some consternation. “And it’s one story that we can skip to the end of, since I believe we were about to discuss just how
much
richer we are all going to be.”

“Right,” Irvine said, and tapped the infopanel on the table in front of him. The wall directly behind him woke up and displayed a presentation slide. “Johan, I think you’re going to walk us through what we’re seeing.”

“Yes,” said Johan Gruber, Director of Exploitation for Zara XXIII. He turned to the wall. “After Mr. Holloway established the claim and forwarded the data from the initial survey, it became clear that the sunstone seam was likely larger than we had originally estimated. We sent an additional survey team to the area—”

“Excuse me?” Holloway said. All surveys of a contracted surveyor’s land had to be performed or supervised by the surveyor. To do otherwise was to risk loss of a claim or subsequent profits from finds stemming from the original claim. “I wasn’t made aware of that.”

“Exigent circumstances,” said Janice Meyer, ZaraCorp’s General Counsel on Zara XXIII. “If you look in your contract, you’ll see that ZaraCorp may, in certain pressing circumstances, operate in a contractor’s territory to expedite the collection of information or materials.”

“What’s the pressing circumstance?” Holloway said.

“I am,” said Aubrey. “This is a significant find, and I wanted to be able to report on it to the chairman and the rest of the board. I was scheduled to leave Zara Twenty-three tomorrow, so I authorized the exigent circumstances clause.”

“You needn’t worry, Mr. Holloway,” Meyer said. “In the event of the exigent circumstances clause being triggered, all additional finds are automatically appended to the original find and the surveyor additionally compensated.”

“How so?” Holloway said.

Meyer looked over to Irvine, who nodded. “We feel an additional tenth of a percent is appropriate,” he said.

“That sounds fine,” Holloway said.

“Congratulations on your point-three-five percent,” said Aubrey, with the sort of casual condescension that comes from knowing that one’s own share of the pie is immeasurably greater. He motioned at Gruber to continue.

Holloway debated saying anything but then realized that if he didn’t, he’d be forced to take a cut. “Half a percent, actually,” he said.

“I beg your pardon?” Aubrey said, annoyed to be interrupted.

Holloway glanced over to Bourne, who looked appalled to be noticed. “Tell him,” he said.

“Uh,” Bourne said, and then caught himself. “Mr. Holloway recently renegotiated his contract for point-four percent of the gross,” he said. “So this bonus does take him to half a percent.”

“I see,” Aubrey said. “And was there a reason for this sudden renegotiation of a standard ZaraCorp contract?”

“Exigent circumstances,” Holloway said.

Aubrey did not appear to find the joke amusing. “Fine,” he said. “But your bonus doesn’t apply until
after
we factor in the cleanup cost of your cliff collapse. CEPA is already processing the fine for that. You share in the profits, you share in the cost.”

What a penny-ante little prick,
Holloway thought, and glanced again to Bourne. Bourne glared back at him with a
stop picking on me
expression on his face. Holloway ignored the look. “Chad?” he said.

“What?” Aubrey snapped, shifting his attention to Bourne. “Does his contract get him out of
that,
too?”

Bourne tried to get the “trapped animal” look out of his eyes. He sighed. “Yes, it does,” he said.

“Who are you?” Aubrey asked.

“Chad Bourne,” Bourne said. “Contractor representative.”

“You must be a very popular rep, Mr. Bourne,” Aubrey said, “considering how lavishly you treat your contractors. Are there any
other
special favors we need to know about in Mr. Holloway’s contract? Additional hidden points on the backend? Free nights at the brothel? Are you required to hand-wash his skimmer whenever he comes into town?”

“No,” Bourne said. “That’s all there is.”

“You’d better hope so,” Aubrey said. “Who is your director here?”

“I am,” said Vincent D’Abo, Director of Staffing, raising his hand.

“After this meeting, you and I are going to have a talk,” Aubrey said.

“Yes, sir,” D’Abo said, and shot a poisonous look at both Bourne and Holloway.

“Now that we’ve wasted several minutes on contracts, let’s get back to the actual
point
of this meeting, if that’s not too much trouble,” Aubrey said. Gruber, caught by surprise, cleared his throat and started over.

Holloway glanced back at Bourne, who looked pale.
Sorry,
Holloway said, mouthing the word silently. Bourne was resolute in ignoring him.

Holloway turned his attention back to the slides on the wall, and to the drone of Gruber’s voice, describing the methodology of the additional surveys as well as the difficulty of doing the additional surveys on the jungle floor, that is, in places where the surveyors, if unwary, might be consumed by large predators. “In short, our survey teams are still sounding the extent of the seam,” Gruber said. “But the data we do have are compelling. The next slide should make this clear.”