guilt. Vandalism and entering SimCon
under false pretenses are both charges punishable by immediate eviction.”
“Then they’ve proven the vandalism
charge?”
A lawyer from Exotech spoke up. “He’s
not that stupid, but this Scarab character has a reputation for tricks like
this.”
“I see, so why wasn’t he accused at
the meeting last night when his team was present?”
“Because reputation alone is not
sufficient to convict a man,” said a black engineer from the Porsche team
waving a clip board. “The issue at hand is copyright infringement. The man had
taken engines from our vehicles and attempted to copyright them as his own
design.”
I walked over to look at the
evidence he was waving. “I admit, the form does have a picture of your engine
on it, but the legend under it reads ‘docking clamp assembly—top view’.”
“But he’s using our engines without
our permission.”
“An old model, second hand. That’s
allowed, isn’t it?”
Judge Gertrude fielded the
question. “Yes, under proof-of-concept rules for prototypes, which DeClerk has
registered this as.” She was glaring at me with suspicion, but no one else had
picked up how thoroughly I was defending myself.
“Then, what, he’s been selling it
or advertising the engine without your permission?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
I handed his clipboard back. “When
he does, I’ll testify against him myself. What has he done against the rules?
You guys are loaded for bear.”
The Exotech lawyer had a smug look
on his bald-pated face. “Ethan Hayes designed his vehicle while employed by one
of our subsidiaries. As such, his design is our intellectual property.”
He made me so angry, I saw white.
That must have been why I slipped up. “First of all, you didn’t own Sam’s
Floater garage until after they hired me. Second of all, I never signed any
intellectual property agreement with you leeches. Third, I did Ghedra after
leaving work for your sweat shop. Fourth, the scope of my job had absolutely
nothing to do with this competition. If you can produce one document proving
otherwise, I will personally kiss your ass.”
Everyone in the room stopped
talking. Cover blown, I decided to go for style points. I glanced over the
judge’s shoulder at her summary sheet and whistled. “Thirty-seven complaints.
That’s got to be some kind of record. How many do we have left? The race starts
in a few minutes.”
The roar started again, louder than
before. The judge used her best English teacher command tone and ordered “Quiet!
One at a time. Porsche, you’re first.”
“Uh, the only thing left was that
we don’t think he’s adequately accounted for engine cooling at low speeds.”
I shrugged. “We use standard air
cooling. I make sure not to operate the sleds at under fifty km/h for more than
a minute. The simulator keeps me honest. Next.”
Gertrude facilitated discussion by
adding, “We can disregard the spelling mistakes and obvious typographical
errors for now. TSM?”
“You don’t even have a driver’s
license. You shouldn’t be allowed in the game!” Several in the mob agreed.
“I wasn’t told that it was a
prerequisite. But since you ask, the mouthpiece from Exotech will confirm that
I was head mechanic at Sam’s garage, a position which required me to hold a
high-speed ground vehicle chauffeur’s license. Next.” The crowd was starting to
break up a little, anger giving way to the need to return to their teams for
today’s start.
“What does approved by the FCC
mean?” demanded one player.
“Exactly what it says on the form.
Next.”
“But it doesn’t say,” he
complained.
“The FCC wrote it, not me,” I
countered.
“What he’s trying to say is what
they were approving is classified, and if they told us, it wouldn’t be
classified anymore,” said the Exotech lawyer. “We want full disclosure
statements with all your employees, contract numbers, and design
specifications. We want to see what
under false pretenses are both charges punishable by immediate eviction.”
“Then they’ve proven the vandalism
charge?”
A lawyer from Exotech spoke up. “He’s
not that stupid, but this Scarab character has a reputation for tricks like
this.”
“I see, so why wasn’t he accused at
the meeting last night when his team was present?”
“Because reputation alone is not
sufficient to convict a man,” said a black engineer from the Porsche team
waving a clip board. “The issue at hand is copyright infringement. The man had
taken engines from our vehicles and attempted to copyright them as his own
design.”
I walked over to look at the
evidence he was waving. “I admit, the form does have a picture of your engine
on it, but the legend under it reads ‘docking clamp assembly—top view’.”
“But he’s using our engines without
our permission.”
“An old model, second hand. That’s
allowed, isn’t it?”
Judge Gertrude fielded the
question. “Yes, under proof-of-concept rules for prototypes, which DeClerk has
registered this as.” She was glaring at me with suspicion, but no one else had
picked up how thoroughly I was defending myself.
“Then, what, he’s been selling it
or advertising the engine without your permission?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
I handed his clipboard back. “When
he does, I’ll testify against him myself. What has he done against the rules?
You guys are loaded for bear.”
The Exotech lawyer had a smug look
on his bald-pated face. “Ethan Hayes designed his vehicle while employed by one
of our subsidiaries. As such, his design is our intellectual property.”
He made me so angry, I saw white.
That must have been why I slipped up. “First of all, you didn’t own Sam’s
Floater garage until after they hired me. Second of all, I never signed any
intellectual property agreement with you leeches. Third, I did Ghedra after
leaving work for your sweat shop. Fourth, the scope of my job had absolutely
nothing to do with this competition. If you can produce one document proving
otherwise, I will personally kiss your ass.”
Everyone in the room stopped
talking. Cover blown, I decided to go for style points. I glanced over the
judge’s shoulder at her summary sheet and whistled. “Thirty-seven complaints.
That’s got to be some kind of record. How many do we have left? The race starts
in a few minutes.”
The roar started again, louder than
before. The judge used her best English teacher command tone and ordered “Quiet!
One at a time. Porsche, you’re first.”
“Uh, the only thing left was that
we don’t think he’s adequately accounted for engine cooling at low speeds.”
I shrugged. “We use standard air
cooling. I make sure not to operate the sleds at under fifty km/h for more than
a minute. The simulator keeps me honest. Next.”
Gertrude facilitated discussion by
adding, “We can disregard the spelling mistakes and obvious typographical
errors for now. TSM?”
“You don’t even have a driver’s
license. You shouldn’t be allowed in the game!” Several in the mob agreed.
“I wasn’t told that it was a
prerequisite. But since you ask, the mouthpiece from Exotech will confirm that
I was head mechanic at Sam’s garage, a position which required me to hold a
high-speed ground vehicle chauffeur’s license. Next.” The crowd was starting to
break up a little, anger giving way to the need to return to their teams for
today’s start.
“What does approved by the FCC
mean?” demanded one player.
“Exactly what it says on the form.
Next.”
“But it doesn’t say,” he
complained.
“The FCC wrote it, not me,” I
countered.
“What he’s trying to say is what
they were approving is classified, and if they told us, it wouldn’t be
classified anymore,” said the Exotech lawyer. “We want full disclosure
statements with all your employees, contract numbers, and design
specifications. We want to see what
Similar Books
