Chapter 4 - THE RED FLAGThe Aethel Corp lead counsel opened the folder, flipping through the pages. Suddenly, his eyebrows pulled together in a sharp frown. He adjusted his glasses, staring closely at the cryptographic timestamp embedded in the margin of the technical specifications.
"Mr. Mercer," the counsel said slowly, his voice dropping the polite warmth it held moments earlier. "According to the USPTO metadata, this patent application was submitted at 11:42 PM on October 14th."
Grant puffed out his chest, smiling proudly. "That’s right. Efficiency is my middle name."
"And yet," the counsel continued, his gaze hardening as he looked up from the paper, "the core molecular lattice equations detailed on page fourteen were mathematically compiled using a proprietary software library that was not released or licensed to the public until November 3rd—three weeks after your submission date."
The room went dead silent.
Grant’s triumphant smile faltered, replaced by a sudden, nervous twitch in his jaw. "That... that's impossible. It's a typo in the software versioning."
"It's not a software typo," a calm, clear voice echoed from the back of the room.
May you like
All heads turned.
I stood up slowly, smoothing down the cuffs of my blazer, and walked toward the head of the table.
