Tuning William - Fuzzy Bones

assignment for all the patrols, arranged so there's none of Paine's Marines covering this sector and so that only our own most trusted men will be overflying Fuzzy Valley-men who will come to us first if they see anything unusual and keep their mouths shut if we tell them to."

"We'd better talk to Jack tonight," Ahmed said. "That can be handled at your welcoming party," George said as he pressed the release stud on the side hatch of the jeep. "Did Gerd tell you about it? I 'm tossing a little beer and pretzels fest for you and Sandra tonight. Nothing elaborate, you understand.

I'm not getting rich off this job, and I imagine you're both just about champagned-out by now."

Ahmed belched affirmatively.

Chapter 15

It was comfortable and quiet in the office where the young man sat dictating a report into his VRR-augmented voco-writer. He was glad he had saved that big featherleaf tree outside the window when they assembled the Medical Center, then chose his office space from the shaded corner of the building. On a hot day-like this particular Tuesday afternoon-it made a difference. The heat pump held the temperature in the labs and other offices to an adequate level-in his office it was cool.

"In summary," he said into the vocowriter, "we have clearly established that the titanium which the land-prawns ingest is accumulated and stored in the middle intestine. It is not passed with other wastes, but collects in nodules on the intestine wall until a point of saturation is assumed and then disperses through all the prawn's soft tissues. The method of action and biochemical function of titanium in land-prawn metabolism is not clearly understood at this point. It is, however, clear that this property of titanium concentration is responsible for the obvious affinity displayed by Fuzzies for land-prawns as a staple item in the Fuzzy diet-even though the titanium present is not in the form of hokfusine, and thus cannot be processed into anti-NFMp by the Fuzzy metabolism.

"We have established that the hokfusine molecule present in Extee-Three emergency rations, which is present only if the farina mixture has been prepared in titanium cookers, has only five atoms of titanium; yet Fuzzies can distinguish its presence by taste alone. In short, they are fond of land-prawns, but they are crazy about Extee-Three.

"The NFMp hormone present in Fuzzy metabolism interferes with fertility and normal fetus development. The manufacture of NFMp is inhibited by any titanium-bearing organic compounds, but only at effective levels by large amounts of hokfusine. This is present theory, not conclusively established by a persuasive body of experiment, but is being actively pursued as a viable line of research which has an acceptably high probability.

"We have proven that Fuzzy metabolism does not use hokfusine directly against NFMp. The digestive process alters it, as well as a variety of other titanium-bearing compounds, into a single substance, which we presently label anti-NFMp, pending full information on its composition and properties.

"Another year or so of patient cataloging and observation should start producing a normal birth rate and acceptably low infant mortality levels among the Fuzzies who are getting enough titanium in their diet to manufacture adequate amounts of anti-NFMp in their bodies."

Jack Holloway sat down disgustedly on the outboard contragravity-field

generator housing of Gerd's airboat. "Damn it!" he said aloud, in the manner of men who are accustomed to being alone. "I hope this isn't going to make me late for George's party tonight."

"Who" matta', Pappy Jack?" Little Fuzzy asked as he came to the hatch and jumped down to the ground. He looked all around. "No Fuzzies anywheh neh-yeh in-ha woods." Jack smiled and scratched him between the ears.

"How are you so sure of that?" he asked.

Little Fuzzy assumed a wise expression and tapped his ear with a tiny finger.

Of course. Fuzzies had keener hearing than Terrans, and across a wider frequency range. Terrans hadn't even known Fuzzies could talk until the Navy researchers discovered their normal speech range was ultrasonic, with various

"yeek" sounds at its interface with human hearing. They made handy little doorbells out in the bush-they could hear a contragrav-ity vehicle coming about ten minutes sooner than a Terran could.

"Whassa matta'," Little Fuzzy repeated.

Holloway shrugged. "Pappy Jack is getting forgetful.

Remember we had trouble with this thing when we took you all over to Unka Vic's house?" Little Fuzzy nodded.

"Well, I should have pulled maintenance on it before I brought it up here, but I was in such a rush to get to the field that I forgot about it. Now we've lost more power and I can't get enough lift out of it, even with the secondaries-enough to land it safely, but not enough to fly it. Well, it's only 1600 and we've contacted five groups of Fuzzies today, anyway."

"Who" make do?" Little Fuzzy asked; curious, as usual.

"I think it's the energy cartridge, overdue for changing. We'll find out what the trouble is, then screen Unka Gerd and have him bring the part out to us."

He reached inside the boat and opened the locker that held the maintenance tool kit, then stopped.

Little Fuzzy was pulling on his pants leg. "What is it?" he asked, as he jerked the tool kit noisily from its clamps and set it down in the hatchway.

Little Fuzzy had a finger to his lips. "Two Hagga," he said. "Come this way-wahking. I think they tosh-ki-Hagga-bad Big Ones."

Jack frowned. "Why do you say that?"

Little Fuzzy cocked his head to one side and turned his ear into the wind.

"One say, 'Just da old man, by-hisse'f, wif one of those 'itta anima'.' Ovvuh one say, 'We come up wif ship hiding us, we drop him easy. 'Fii/isf one say,

'Ship make us good money on Omega Condinent. If we bag da Fuzzy, have good money foh him same way.' "

The tips of Jack's mustache twitched truculently. "So that's it; kill me, kidnap you, steal the airboat. How far away are they?" he asked as he loosened his pistol in the holster and snapped off the safety.

"No fah," Little Fuzzy said. "Take many-many-many sma' mahks." He tapped Jack's wrist watch.

Jack frowned. "How many minutes, Little Fuzzy? Think hard."

Little Fuzzy closed his eyes tightly, trying to remember what Christiana-Auntie K' istanna, he called her now-had taught him about counting.

Finally, he snapped one hand out in front of him with all five fingers opened.

"This many," he said.

"That's enough," he said. He lifted Little Fuzzy up into the boat. "You stay until I come for you. If anybody else comes in, you run like hell. Got that?"

Little Fuzzy shook his head yes.

Jack crawled into the boat and punched out Gerd's office screen combination.

The screen filled with a brilliant pattern of color that exploded into the image of Gerd van Riebeek sitting at his desk, dictating a tape. "Hi Jack," he said, turning toward the screen. "What's up?"

"No time to explain, Gerd," Jack said softly. "Leave this pickup open. My co-ordinates are J- five-seventy, S-nine-four-fiver. Got that?"

Gerd was writing on a scratch pad. "Sure, but what's-"

"A couple a fellas are working up on me that figure to bushwhack me and steal your boat. If I don't call you back in five minutes, get a patrol up here on the double. They'll either be trying to figure out why your boat won't lift or they'll be nearby, running like hell. Don't talk; just listen."

Jack thought for a minute, then reached under the control panel and pulled out the nine-millimeter automatic he knew Gerd kept there. He checked the magazine, chambered a round, and tucked it under the tool kit. Then he started whistling noisily and stopped to curse from time to time.

By the time he could hear the men's voices coming to him down the wind, he had the generator cover off and had hidden the extra pistol in among the machinery-and never let his right hand stray more than six inches away from it.