“Tell them that,” Holloway said, and pointed to the window. Baby was there, looking out.

“God, that’s cute,” Isabel said.

Baby turned her head and opened her mouth. A few seconds later the entire Fuzzy Family was peeking out the cabin window.

“It’s like they were evolutionarily designed for adorability, isn’t it?” Holloway said.

“It really is,” Isabel said.

The dog door opened and Carl walked halfway through. Isabel called to him, but he stayed put.

“Is he stuck?” Isabel asked, puzzled.

“Wait for it,” Holloway said.

The Fuzzy Family piled through the door. When the last of them were out, Carl walked the rest of the way through and started toward Isabel, tail wagging furiously.

Isabel turned and looked at Holloway curiously. He shrugged. “I didn’t teach him that,” he said. Then Carl and the Fuzzy Family reached Isabel, and she was distracted by cute.

Holloway smiled and took the opportunity to head to the cabin for a beer. As he went in, he noticed the infopanel was still showing the movie. The Fuzzys might be smart, but apparently they hadn’t figured out how to turn the thing off. Holloway picked up the panel, paused the movie, and then cleared it off the screen, returning the infopanel to the default screen. It noted a voice message from Chad Bourne. Holloway opened it.

“Hi, Jack,” the message said. “Before I say anything else, I want to say this was not my idea. We have our problems, but I think you know I wouldn’t try to hold up what’s yours. All right?”

What the hell? Holloway thought.

“That said, I’ve been ordered to suspend payments to your contractor account,” the message continued. “The order came from Wheaton Aubrey the Seventh himself. I told him that suspending your payments was a violation of our contract with you, but he said before you received any initial payment on the sunstone seam, he wanted to talk to you. He said he’s got a business proposition for you. He says he needs to discuss it with you personally.”

Chapter Nine

Wheaton Aubrey VII was unavailable to meet Holloway immediately. He was on the planet’s southwestern continent, touring some of the mining projects there, or so Holloway was told. He was also told that, while legally he had the right and obligation to do further surveying of the sunstone seam, he was to hold off on that as well until Aubrey could schedule him in. A nominal sum would be credited to his contractor account to compensate him for these further “exigent circumstances.”

Of course, as Aubrey had ordered payments held pending further discussion, Holloway couldn’t access the sum. He swore and remarked to Isabel that it was a good thing she’d brought the bindi, or else he’d starve. Isabel, occupied with the Fuzzys, barely looked up for the comment.

Two days later Holloway aimed his skimmer toward Carl’s Cliff and his sunstone discovery. Aubrey would be there, surveying the initial site buildout. Holloway saw evidence of the activity long before he came close to it: a streamy cloud of particles marking a smeared line in the sky, evidence of industrial-grade machinery. A few minutes later, he was circling the site, looking for a place to land.

Holy God, they got busy fast, Holloway thought. At the foot of the cliff was a small but growing site, its perimeter marked by a high modular predator fence. On the inside of the fence, machines clear-cut the area, shaving the ground down to the dirt to serve as a foundation for permanent structures. Outside the area, robots were drilling holes to expand the fence line, their operators on the safe side of the barrier. When the holes were drilled, another set of robots would place the additional modular fencing and link it to the existing fence, pushing out the perimeter in steps until there was enough room for whatever structures ZaraCorp needed. Holloway looked around at the nature on display around him; it wouldn’t be there for much longer.

“Skimmer, identify,” came a message through Holloway’s infopanel.

Holloway arched his eyebrows at this. “The hell you say,” he replied. “Identify yourself first, pal.”

“Skimmer, identify yourself now or you will be shot down,” the voice said.

“Shoot at me and I’ll land this thing on your skull,” Holloway said. “And I’d get away with it, too, because you are on my claim. Now, you identify yourself or we’ll see each other in court, and you’ll be wearing a body cast.”

There was silence for a minute, then “Skimmer, you are cleared to land at the beacon.” An image materialized on the info panel, showing a beacon and a landing circle a small distance from one of the larger structures. “Mr. Aubrey is expecting you.”

Damn right he is, Holloway thought. Holloway set the auto-approach to the beacon. He was on the ground a minute later, and as he climbed out of his skimmer, he noted two men approaching. He recognized one as Joe DeLise, part of the ZaraCorp security detail from Aubreytown. He was one of the security guys Holloway rather emphatically didn’t drink with.

“Oh, it’s you,” Holloway said. “Figures. You never bothered to identify yourself, Joe. That’s a violation of ZaraCorp regulations. I could have you written up.”

“The next time you don’t identify yourself, Holloway, I will have your skimmer shot down,” DeLise said. “I’ve got my orders.”

“And I have my stake contract,” Holloway said.

“It’s not your stake anymore,” DeLise said.

Holloway cracked a smiled at that. “I don’t think ‘exigent circumstances’ will go quite that far in a court of law, Joe. Not that I wouldn’t mind hauling your fat ass in front of a judge to find out.”

“Gentlemen, please,” said the other man, who had watched the exchange of pleasantries between Holloway and DeLise with a bemused look on his face. “Mr. Holloway, Mr. DeLise does indeed have orders to ground any approaching skimmer that will not identify itself, by force if necessary. Mr. DeLise, Mr. Holloway’s claim to this find is still very much in effect. So you’re both right, and now you both may stick your dicks back into your pants.”

DeLise audibly ground his teeth at this but said nothing. Holloway crooked his head at the second man, amused. “And you are?” he said.

“Brad Landon,” the man said. He walked up to Holloway and held out his hand. “I’m Mr. Aubrey’s personal assistant. I’m here to take you to him.”

“He’s too busy to greet me himself?” Holloway joked.

“Of course he is,” Landon said, in a tone that told Holloway that his response, while a joke in return, was also in fact completely serious. Landon turned to DeLise. “Thank you, Mr. DeLise. I will take it from here. You may go back to your post.”

“I want the skimmer waxed before I get back,” Holloway said. DeLise shot him a look and stomped off.

“Do you always antagonize people when you meet them, Mr. Holloway?” Landon asked, as they set off across the base.

“I’ve met DeLise before,” Holloway said. “Lots of times before. That’s why I’m antagonizing him.”

“I see,” Landon said. “I thought perhaps it was one of those stereotypical hostility-to-authority things.”

“I doubt Joe’s an authority on much,” Holloway said. “He’s one of those guys who thinks the job description of ‘cop’ reads as ‘professional thug.’”

“His service record is clean,” Landon said. “I know. I saw it before I approved his being stationed here.”

“I think it’s interesting that you seem to be under the impression anyone’s going to say anything bad about a company goon in a company town,” Holloway said.

“Point taken,” Landon said. “You think we should transfer him back, then.”

“Hell, no,” Holloway said. “Every night he’s here is a night he’s not beating up someone in a bar. You’re doing the citizens of Aubreytown a favor.”