"Family group of Fuzzies," Rainsford said. "Mature male, mature female,
immature male." He lifted Baby Fuzzy down and put him in Mamma's arms.
"Species _Fuzzy fuzzy holloway zarathustra_. The gentleman on my left is
Jack Holloway, the sunstone operator, who is the original discoverer.
Jack, Juan Jimenez."

They shook their own hands at one another in the ancient Terran-Chinese
gesture that was used on communication screens, and assured each
other--Jimenez rather absently--that it was a pleasure. He couldn't take
his eyes off the Fuzzies.

"Where did they come from?" he wanted to know. "Are you sure they're
indigenous?"

"They're not quite up to spaceships, yet, Dr. Jimenez. Fairly early
Paleolithic, I'd say."

Jimenez thought he was joking, and laughed. The sort of a laugh that could
be turned on and off, like a light. Rainsford assured him that the Fuzzies
were really indigenous.

"We have everything that's known about them on tape," he said. "About an
hour of it. Can you take sixty-speed?" He was making adjustments on the
recorder as he spoke. "All right, set and we'll transmit to you. And can
you get hold of Gerd van Riebeek? I'd like him to hear it too; it's as
much up his alley as anybody's."

When Jimenez was ready, Rainsford pressed the play-off button, and for a
minute the recorder gave a high, wavering squeak. The Fuzzies all looked
startled. Then it ended.