Page 137 of The Proving Ground
“I know you’re bluffing, Haller,” he said. “You don’t have shit.”
“Keep thinking that,” I said. “I want this to go to a verdict. Based on the Wall Street valuation of the company, I put the over-under on punitive damages at four hundred. Million, that is. What’s that going to do to the stock?”
Marcus scoffed.
“Keep dreaming,” he said.
I grabbed a paper-clipped document out of a folder on my table and walked it over to them.
“Here’s your lunchtime reading assignment,” I said. “Sorry I have only one copy.”
Marcus took it from me and scanned it. Mitchell leaned over his shoulder to get a look.
“What’s this, more bullshit?” Marcus asked.
“You are really a one-note guy, aren’t you?” I said. “It’s a motion I’ll submit as soon as I finish destroying Whittaker.”
This time it was Mitchell who scoffed as he read, apparently faster than his twin.
“You think she’s going to let you put Wren up as a witness?” he asked incredulously. “An AI witness?”
“You can’t even put it under oath,” Marcus said, catching up.
“Well, that’s the plan,” I said. “The malice here originates with the guy who infected the code with his hate, but the entity is a coconspirator. The jury has a right to hear what it says, how it supposedly thinks, and how it came to advocate murder. It’s a novel argument now but it won’t be for long. As Mr. Wendt told me when he tried to bribe me, the company is called Tidalwaiv because there isno stopping this. I see a future where AI entities are regular witnesses at trial.”
They said nothing. Mitchell continued to read the motion, his face growing whiter as he realized it had a chance. I wasn’t so sure about that myself but had written it as a final salvo to launch after the Whittaker testimony wrapped. It might not get past the judge, but it would probably make some headlines.
I put all my own paperwork into my briefcase and snapped it shut.
“Tomorrow, boys,” I said.
At the gate, I stopped and looked back at them.
“Remember,” I said. “Front steps of the courthouse, all media invited. Accountability, action, and apology. The money in my escrow account before it starts.”
“We’re past that now,” Marcus said.
“In light of what came out today and what will come out tomorrow?” I asked. “That’s a decision above your pay grade, Marcus.”
I pushed through the gate and headed toward the door under the clock. But then I stopped and turned to them once more.
“Oh, and the number now is fifty-two,” I said.
“The last offer was fifty,” Marcus said.
“Yeah, but now it’s fifty-two. The fifty you offered and the two your boss tried to bribe me with. In escrow, before the press conference, or no deal.”
“Bullshit. It’ll never happen.”
“Somehow, I knew you’d say that. Have a good night, boys. You know where to reach me.”
I walked out the courtroom door.
48
I WAS HOPINGthere would be a whole phalanx of media spread across the front steps of the federal courthouse, but only the reporters that had been covering the trial showed up. It was them plus one freelance videographer who had been around for twenty years. I knew him simply as Sticks because he always had a collapsible tripod that he placed his camera on, even though handheld cameras with gyros were the way of the media world now. Sticks might have been old-fashioned and unattached to a specific news channel, but he had solid connections to all the national cable outlets, and that made him the most important media rep in attendance.
I had been hopeful that Victor Wendt would come back down in his G-5 to stand in front of the media, but that was too much to expect from the man who had capitulated to the urging of his lawyers to avoid a possible nine-figure merger-killing verdict. Tidalwaiv would be represented at the press conference by a company damage-control expert named Ellen Bromley as well as by the Mason twins, who would suffer the indignity of facing the mediaas it was announced that they had settled their case to avoid losing it.
