Fuzzy Nation Read Free Page B

don’t want to be fined for this cliff collapse. It was an accident, and I know when you sift the data you’ll see that for yourself.”
    “Fine,” Bourne said. “Done.”
    “And I want a one percent finder’s fee,” Holloway said.
    Bourne swore. Holloway was asking for four times the standard finder’s fee. “No way,” Bourne said. “No way . They’ll fire me for even thinking about approving that.”
    “It’s one lousy percent,” Holloway said.
    “You want ten million credits for blowing up a cliff side,” Holloway said.
    “Well, it might be more than that,” Holloway said. “I can see six more sunstones in the seam from where I’m sitting.”
    “No,” Bourne said. “Don’t even think about it. The most I’m allowed to authorize myself is point four percent. Take it and we’re done. Leave it and we’re going to court. And I swear to you, Jack, if I get fired for all of this, I’m going to hunt you down and kill you myself. And steal your dog.”
    “That’s just low, stealing someone’s dog,” Holloway said.
    “Point four percent,” Bourne said. “Final offer.”
    “Done,” Holloway said. “Write this up as a rider to the contract neither you nor I contend was ever stupidly deleted by you. If it’s a rider, I don’t have to fly into Aubreytown to approve it.”
    “Already done,” Bourne said. “Transmitting now.” The MAIL icon on Holloway’s infopanel came to life. He picked up the infopanel, scanned the rider, and approved it with his security hash.
    “Pleasure doing business with you, Chad,” Holloway said, setting down the infopanel.
    “Please die in a fire, Jack,” Bourne said.
    “Does this mean you’re not taking me for a steak at Ruby’s?” Holloway asked, but Bourne had already cut the connection.
    Holloway smiled to himself and held up the sunstone in his hand, turning it in the sun. Even in its uncut, dirty state it was beautiful, and Holloway had held it long enough that his own ambient heat had worked into the heart of the stone, making its filaments glow like lightning trapped in amber.
    “You’re coming with me,” Holloway said to the stone. ZaraCorp could have the rest of them, and would. But this was the stone that had just made him a very rich man. It was a lucky stone, indeed. And he had someone in mind to give it to. By way of apology.
    Holloway stood up and slipped the sunstone into his pocket. He looked over at Carl, who was still lying on the ledge. Carl crooked an eyebrow at him.
    “Well,” Holloway said. “We’ve done all the damage we’re going to do around here for today. Let’s go home.”

 
    Chapter Three        
    Holloway’s skimmer was roughly halfway back to his home when his infopanel alerted him that his house was being broken into; the emergency alert system’s movement alarm had been tripped.
    “Crap,” Holloway said. He jabbed the AUTOPILOT function on the skimmer; the skimmer skewed momentarily as it acquired signal and pathing from Holloway’s home base. There was no traffic here—Holloway’s survey territory was deep inside a continent-wide jungle, far away from any population centers, or indeed any other humans—so the course was more or less a straight line to home over the hills and treetops. Autopilot engaged, Holloway picked up his infopanel and clicked through to the security camera.
    Which showed nothing; Holloway had the camera on his work desk and generally used it as a hat stand. His view of his house—and whoever was currently inside it—was being blocked by a stained porkpie hat he’d worn for amusement’s sake during his second year of law school at Duke.
    “Stupid hat, ” Holloway said. He kicked up the gain on the security camera’s microphone and held the infopanel speaker against his ear, on the chance the interloper might talk.
    No luck. There were no voices, and what little else he could hear was being washed out by the sound of the skimmer engines and wind rushing through the open