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Papa Fuzzy,
wondered again at the thing’s intelligence.
Sam Hamilton,
Mama Fuzzy.
Grandpa Fuzzy.
the fuzzy equivalent of a teenage boy.
Pinto.
Baby Fuzzy.
the best darn butler a little fuzzy ever had.
“Are you keeping him in there so he doesn’t scare away those creatures?” Isabel asked. Holloway smiled. “Not exactly,” he said. “Come on.”
“An old science fiction movie called Return of the Jedi,”
the Fuzzy Family reached Isabel, and she was distracted by cute.
Holloway looked around at the nature on display around him; it wouldn’t be there for much longer.
Joe DeLise,
“Brad Landon,”
“Very humane of you,” Holloway said. “Cheaper, too, as it happens,”
Five hundred million credits, Holloway, in your account, right now.
I don’t like being pressured into making deals, and I don’t give a damn whether you’re going to run the company one day or not.
Fact is, right now you need my cooperation more than I need your money.
“He condescended to me, I was antagonistic to him, he made a dismissive offer couched in contempt, I threw it back in his face and promised legal action if he tried to cross me again.”
“I think they’re sapient,” Isabel said. “I think these creatures are intelligent on a level beyond just animals. These things are people, Jack.”
it’s one thing to teach an animal to step on a detonator panel to get a treat. It’s another thing to teach it how to make a sandwich.
“Which in itself shows higher-order cognitive function,” Isabel said. “It’s called theory of mind. Papa assumed that when I asked him to make another sandwich, that I was asking him to make it for me, because I was hungry. He was attributing intent and reason to me.”
But is there evidence they have speech? Language?