“This isn’t one of them!” Kaem exclaimed. “The tech needed to build it’s been around a long time. The math needed to work it out’s been around for a long time too. It’s just so unlikely…” He stopped at the expression on Morales’ face. “Okay, see I’m not going to convince you. Give us legal advice then. Do they have a right to demand we send them our working models? If they know how to do it and have been doing it, why would they need our version?”
Morales frowned. “Their patent prohibits you from making, using or selling stade, or a machine that makes stade. But, they don’t have a right to your property. You could destroy the machine that makes it yourself, you wouldn’t have to turn it over to them.”
“I did a search for patents or patent applications assigned to Martin Aerospace. None of them were for anything like stade.”
“Patent applications often aren’t published for eighteen months—”
“But,” Kaem interrupted, “we know they don’t actually have a patent as they claim. At best they’ve filed an application, right?”
“Unless your search missed the actual patent. Or, if it was patented but the patent wasn’t assigned to Martin Aero. Maybe someone else invented and patented it and they licensed it to Martin after the patent was in force. Martin could still be responsible for defending the patent.”
“Can we hire you to do a search for us? Maybe you could find it even though I couldn’t.”
Morales shrugged, “Sure. I’d be happy to. It’s one of the ways I earn money. But I’d have to ask you what keywords to search because my expertise doesn’t lean that way. What I’d be doing for you is checking all the patents that come up from your search to see if they describe something like stade then asking you if I’d found it. I’d be doing tedious work for you that you might want to pay me for, if you have more remunerative ways to spend your time.”
Kaem glanced at Arya, “Maybe we should try some more searches on our own first?”
She nodded, but he could see she was losing faith in his assertion that no one else could’ve come up with the idea.
Kaem turned back to Morales. “So, let’s say Martin Aero may have a patent, even if we can’t find it. It seems to me that if they’re saying they have a patent and are trying to force us not to infringe, we should have a right to see their patent, shouldn’t we?”
“If they’ve been granted a patent,” Morales said, “the patent is public knowledge and can be looked up. Where’s the letter claiming that you’ve infringed? It should specify which patent they think you’re infringing.”
Kaem looked at Arya.
She shrugged, saying, “They’ve only contacted me by phone.”
“Ah. I certainly wouldn’t do anything until you get a letter. If they call again, tell them to send you one. And, demand to know the number of their patent.”
Arya looked uncomfortable. “I already called them back and told them I needed the number. They wouldn’t give it to me.”
“Oh…” Morales said, “That does seem fishy. You definitely shouldn’t cooperate until they send you a letter with a number.” He looked at Kaem, “You may be right. Perhaps they only have an application.” He grimaced, “While they can’t sue for infringement on an application, it’d markedly decrease the value of your idea if they had one for stade. If their patent’s granted, Martin’ll be able to sue for damages starting back at the date their application was filed.”
Kaem studied Morales for a moment, then decided they had to have his expertise. “I’d like to tell you what I think they’re doing and get your advice on how to fight it, okay?”
Morales leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers over his stomach, “Sure.”
“Along with a bunch of other space launch companies, we sent Martin Aerospace a sample of stade.” He turned to Arya since she’d sent out the samples, “Right?”
Arya nodded.
Kaem continued, “They tested that sample, then absolutely shit themselves when they realized it made a couple of their patents for high-temperature metals worthless.” Kaem waited until Morales also nodded, then went on. “They immediately filed a patent application for a method to create stade, though they called it something else.” Kaem looked Morales in the eye, “Because an application can be modified up till when it’s granted, right?”
“Um, yeah,” Morales conceded, “though it can’t be a completely different app. The modifications should be minor.”
“We told you about James Harris and how he’d tried to force his way into our business, right?”
Morales nodded.
“Harris might’ve had some contact with Martin. After giving it a lot of thought, I think Harris might’ve paid someone to get into my dorm room and take pictures of the electronics I use to create stade. Or have gotten photos taken over at Gunnar Schmidt’s place. He could’ve shared this information with Martin.”
“Who’s Schmidt?”
“The guy who builds the forms we create stade in. He’s a minor partner in Staze.”
Morales took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I hope you know how paranoid you sound?”
Kaem smiled at him, “You didn’t already think that because I insisted on meeting in this interior room?”
Morales snorted softly, “That wasn’t really because you didn’t like the bright lighting in the other conference room?”
“No, it’s because I’m afraid someone’s painting your windows with a laser mic.”
Morales nodded and spoke with an amused expression, “You are paranoid.”
“Doesn’t mean they’re not after me,” Kaem said with another tight smile. “Also, even if Harris didn’t give information to Martin, they could’ve hired their own PI to hack my computer, search my dorm room, or otherwise try to get design information on the invention.”
“The law restrains PIs from illegal searches.”
“And all PIs follow the law?”
Morales gave a small one-shouldered shrug but didn’t say anything.
“In any case, I think they’re presently busy trying to get sufficient information to modify their patent app for a device they’ve realized is nonfunctional. They want to get their application to the point that it’ll produce a device that does work. And that’s why they’re insisting we send them our working models.”
Morales scrutinized Kaem a moment, glanced at Arya, then said, “In a paranoid way that makes sense. I find it hard to believe that a major corporation would—”
Kaem interrupted, “Did you know Arya already got shot over this invention?”
Morales gave her a startled look. When she nodded, he asked, “You’re okay? They missed?”
She said, “I’m okay, but Harris did hit me.”
“My God! Where?”
Arya laid a hand on her chest, “Here, but I was wearing a vest made of stade plates. The bullet bounced off.”
“Oh… Wow!” Morales said thoughtfully, glancing at the stade on his desk. Kaem thought he hadn’t considered a lot of the possible applications for the patent.
Kaem said, “And that was just Mr. Harris, not all the aerospace companies we sent stade samples to. Admittedly, it seems that in his case the stress resulted in a psychotic break, made worse by his decision to go off his meds, but… I think people who give stade much thought realize how much it’s worth. Then they tend to do some things they wouldn’t normally consider.” He shrugged, “The way you read about people doing crazy stuff in the pursuit of treasure.”
Morales sighed, “Okay. Let’s assume all your paranoia’s justified. You should keep all your records of the invention in a safety deposit box or somewhere else where it’ll be safe. The computer you use to work on it should be disconnected from the internet. Your actual devices should be kept in a secure location…” Morales paused thinking. “Could they have already hacked your computer to get design drawings or other descriptions?”
Kaem sighed, “I’d like to think not. I’m pretty good with computers and I’ve developed
some of my own security and encryption, but,” he shrugged, “there may be someone out there who’s better than I am.”
“If so, they really could’ve patented your work,” Morales said, sounding dismayed. “Do you have printed and dated versions we could use to prove priority?”
“By priority, I assume you mean prove they copied me rather than me copying them?”
Morales nodded.
“No. But I think I have something better.”
“What’s that?”
“None of my drawings or descriptions will work as they stand. I inserted mistakes that’re easy for me to keep track of. So, I can use the drawings and specs to build devices because I know the implanted errors, but no one else could. Whatever they built would be nonfunctional.” Slowly he said, “Seems to me that if their patent won’t make stade and ours will, that’d serve as proof of who invented it.”
“Oh!” Morales said, sinking back into his chair. “I like that! So, then, all you have to protect is your hardware. Do you have a place you can lock it up?”
“No, but right now it consists of a bunch of commercially available electronic devices that I only patch together when I want to make stade. I disconnect all the wiring and reset all the devices whenever I’m not using the setup. So, just like the drawings, someone taking the equipment couldn’t build a working device either.”
Morales stood and peered over his desk at the suitcase Kaem had wheeled into the office with him. “The stuff’s in there? Can I see it?”
Kaem lifted the rack out of the suitcase and showed him how all the switches were off or flipped downward. All the rotary pots were turned all the way counterclockwise.
“Where’s the wiring?”
Kaem turned the rack around and opened the doors on the back.
“That’s quite the tangle of wires. Um, I thought you said you disconnected them when not in use?”
Kaem smiled thinly, “I did. Starting today I’ve started hooking them up wrong instead.”
“Ah,” Morales said, producing a smile of his own. He grew thoughtful. “I think you’re pretty well protected if you’re right that they don’t know how to make it and are only trying to shake you down for the correct method. If they really do have the same invention and have already filed for a patent, you’re pretty much screwed. The question now is, do you want to protect your intellectual property with a patent so that if you’re right and they don’t have the same invention you’ll be the owner?”
“Damned right I do.”
“It’ll be expensive.”
“How much?”
Morales got out a pricing sheet describing his fee for writing it up with increments depending on complexity. Fees for filing, fees for working with the patent examiner. He pointed out which fees would be charged for sure, which things might be needed and which items likely wouldn’t.
His explanation seemed quite straightforward and honest. Kaem said, “I thought lawyers charged by the hour?”
Morales gave a tiny shrug, “I’m fast, so I get paid more by fees than I do by the hour. Or I could be incentivized to lie about how much time I spend on your patent and charge you for more hours than I invest. I think this is more honest.”
Kaem liked that. He’d been irritated when Morales was dubious about whether Kaem had a rightful claim on the invention, but he liked straight dealing. He knew how much it was going to cost upfront. He didn’t need to worry that the attorney would be charging him for hours spent having “business drinks” with other lawyers. And, they could afford it now that they had the million dollars Space-Gen had deposited.
But… He looked up from the pricing sheet. “I’d prefer you were truly motivated to draw up the best damn patent you could. That you wanted to protect our IP to the best of your ability. That you feared someone stealing the idea as much as I do. That no one could buy you out. What would you think of being our lawyer for a tenth of a percent of our profits in the first three years after receiving the patent?”
Morales looked insulted, “A tenth of a percent?”
Kaem held up his hand. “We’re talking about a business that’s going to cast rocket engines in buyer supplied molds for two million dollars each. A business that won’t have any expenses beyond a couple of thousand for sets of electronics that can cast engine after engine after engine. Electronics that can also cast bridges, dirigibles, or skyscrapers.”
Morales narrowed his eyes, “So, you’re saying that…”
“We should easily be able to do a billion dollars’ worth of business that first three years. Your share of that would be a million. If we only did a hundred million dollars, you’d get a hundred thousand. If we did less than that, it’d probably be at least partly your fault. If you hustle and do your part right, we should do several billion.”
“Unless your IP turns out to be worthless because Martin does have priority.”
“They don’t,” Kaem said with conviction. “And if they manage to get that claim to stand up in court, you didn’t do your job right.”
Morales sat staring at them, his eyes flicking back and forth between Kaem and Arya.
Figuring we’re too young and too dumb, Kaem thought.
But then Morales stood, leaned over his desk, and extended his hand to shake, “I feel like I’m playing the lottery, but you’ve got a deal.” They shook, then Morales said, “I’ll draw up an agreement and email it to you. Come back tomorrow to sign it and bring all your information on the IP so I can draw up a patent application.”
Kaem said, “Okay.”
Arya said, “We’ll be counting on your vaunted speed to get the patent in pronto, right?”
Morales grinned, “That’d be in my best interests. So, yes.”
***
After the meeting with Morales, Arya went with Kaem back to his dorm the way she had back when they were worried about an attack from Harris. She surprised him by getting out of the Uber when it arrived at Kaem’s dorm. He tilted his head curiously, “You’re coming in with me?”
She nodded distractedly. “I want to talk some more. Not in an Uber, I don’t think you can count on them to be… secure.”
“Ah…” he grinned, “Congratulations. You’re getting as paranoid as I am.” He glanced around. No one was near. No shotgun mics in evidence. “What’d you want to talk about?”
“I don’t want to spend, um,” she glanced around the way he had, “our recent chunk of income. If they never get their product they may come after us.”
Frustrated, Kaem said, “They didn’t pay for a product. They paid for the right to bid on the product against other buyers!”
“Yeah, but if we’re infringing, and therefore we never had any product we could sell…”
“Come on Arya. Look me in the eye.”
She stopped and turned to stare into his eyes.
Mustering all his sincerity, he said, “I did not steal stade from anyone!”
She shrugged and looked sad. “I’m not worried about that anymore. But you cannot be completely sure someone else didn’t invent it first.”
Keeping his eyes on hers, partly because he liked looking into Arya’s eyes, but also hoping to display his earnestness, he said, “So, what…? You don’t want to spend any of it? Please tell me you don’t want to send it back. That’d pretty much say even we don’t believe it’s our product.”
“No,” she said, slowly. “Not send it back. But I don’t think we should spend it.”
With a long-suffering sigh, Kaem turned and continued to the dorm. He thought Arya would turn and leave, but she followed along. When they stood waiting in front of the elevator, he resignedly spoke without looking at her, “I won’t try to spend any of it without your permission. You don’t have to come upstairs to keep badgering me.” Then he wondered, I can’t believe I’m trying to keep her from coming up to my room! I-I… don’t know what I want, he thought, disgusted with himself.
She didn’t look at him either. “I want to talk to you about… other
stuff.”
On Kaem’s floor, as they walked down the hall to his room, Kaem realized there were some campus police in the hall outside his room. “Oh, crap!” he muttered, walking faster, then slowing.
“Is that your room?” Arya asked.
He didn’t answer since they were now close enough the answer was obvious. Instead, he bumped the suitcase with the rack of electronics against her leg and, without looking at her, whispered, “Take this and head back to your place.”
She said, “What?!”
He hissed, “Now!”
“Wait, give me your coat!”
Kaem set down the rack and slipped off his coat, handing it to her.
She took the coat, grabbed the handle of the suitcase, and kept going down the hall to the stairs.
Falling behind, Kaem stepped up to one of the policemen, “Hello, Officer,” he said. “This’s my room. What’s happened?”
The campus cop gave him a suspicious look. “Your name?”
“Kaem Seba.”
“Spell it please.”
When Kaem did, the man asked to see ID. Kaem provided that as well. Finally, the officer seemed to accept that Kaem was who he said he was. Kaem told himself he should be grateful the man was making sure no strangers entered the room. But he couldn’t help a niggling feeling that the man couldn’t believe a black kid belonged in the dorm. Probably thinks I’m likely the perp.
When Kaem was finally allowed to look into the room, the first thing he saw was that his desktop computer was gone. Thank God my laptop’s in my backpack! They’d left Kaem’s huge monitor, the main reason he had a desktop device.
Kaem noticed Ron Metz, his roommate, sitting on his bed looking pissed. Angry was Ron’s normal state so it was a little hard to be sure he was more upset than usual. When Metz saw Kaem, he said, “For your sake, I hope your data was backed up.”
Kaem felt surprised Metz had any thought for Kaem’s problems. He continued surveying the room. He didn’t see Ron’s laptop and the guy didn’t have a desktop. “They take anything but computers?”
The Thunder of Engines Page 8