Patenaude stepped forward, "This is correct, insofar as it goes. However, the chips in question were outside of the specification parameters of Lethe‑Corp. The chips in question were internal projects of our own that we were constructing as test beds for certain unique structural elements. Once we determined the most successful implementations, we would have created a custom design for Lethe‑Corp. In point of fact, our test chips were supersets of the Lethe‑Corp specification so that we could test multiple configurations on the same platform. We often work this way–"
"Your Honor," argued Hidalgo, "the contract specifies that Lethe‑Corp owns all of the material developed in testing–"
"Only the testing that Lethe‑Corp paid for."
"Nevertheless, there was proprietary technology involved that belongs only to Lethe‑Corp, and–"
"Proprietary technology licensedto Vancouver Design specifically for additional research and development–"
Judge Cavanaugh was looking back and forth between them, grinning. He rapped his wooden hammer. "I do so like cases like this. We can tie up the time and energy of a lot of lawyers and keep them out of real trouble while spending lots and lots of corporate money." He waved at the back of the room. "And your name is–?"
"Shannonhouse, John Shannonhouse."
"And you represent?"
"Buffalo Technology, LTD."
"And your claim is based on–?"
"We are the patent holders."
"Oh?"
"We hold 137 patents on quantum‑level processor determinants. We represent forty‑five different companies who have pooled their patents for mutual benefit–and also because without such cooperation, nobody's devices would work at all, all of these separate structures are highly interdependent, they need each other–so do the companies that own the patents. Lethe‑Corp is a licensee, as are Vancouver Design, Canadian‑Interplanetary, and so on. The chips in question were an experimental project that we had authorized Lethe‑Corp to build. The specification that they passed on to Vancouver Design was a subset of our ultimate intention. Vancouver Design correctly extrapolated where we were headed with this research–we will demonstrate this as soon as we can bring the rest of our design team to Luna, and–"
"Okay, I got it," said Cavanaugh. He was scribbling a furious note. He looked absolutely delighted. "This is going to be as much fun as reading Bleak House."He looked up again. "All right, let's recap. We have a whole bunch of people who are arguing that whatever is inside the toy monkey belongs to them. Everybody has perfect paperwork. I can't tell you how thrilled I am. If we work this right, we can keep this thing going longer than the Baby Cooper dollar bill. We're all going to get old together. We're going to spend more time with each other than with our families and our friends and our loved ones. Isn't that wonderful? Just one question. Whose good idea was this?Everybody go sit down."
Judge Cavanaugh sat in his chair for a moment, steepling his hands before him. He puffed out his cheeks and tapped his fingers against each other while he considered what he knew.
"Whatever those chips are," he said thoughtfully, "they must be very wonderful indeed. I haven't seen this many high‑priced lawyers in a single courtroom since the attempt to impeach Pope Joan Marie. I'm tempted to put this whole thing into a revolving arbitration to guarantee that by the time we're ready to start taking testimony, the technology in question will be sixteen generations obsolete and none of you will care anymore and we can let the whole thing die a natural death."
There were some spluttering noises from various places behind us–some were angry noises, some were attempts to control laughter.
"Your Honor?" A woman's voice. Judge Cavanaugh obviously recognized her, he looked like he was expecting her. He waved her forward impatiently and without comment. She knew the drill–she turned and identified herself to the recorder: "Laura Domitz, Charter Representative for Armstrong Sector of the Lunar Authority." She was tall and spare, with close‑cropped hair. She looked all‑business. She turned to face the bench. "Your Honor, with the situation on Earth as uncertain as it is, we may not be seeing any new generations of technology for a while."
I didn't see what she was getting at, but Judge Cavanaugh seemed to understand where she was headed. "And your point is … ?"
"Luna is a free port of access. We have to be." Ignoring several muffled snorts of derision, she continued, "Many people and many worlds benefit from the advantages of Luna's unique position as a favorable launchpad to the stars and to the rest of the solar system. We ask only that those who benefit pay an appropriate user fee to cover the cost of maintaining that service. Under ordinary circumstances, Lunar Authority would have little interest in these chips or devices or whatever they are–as long as the fees are paid.
"However … we have no way of knowing how long the situation on Earth will continue. With Line traffic disrupted, Luna's ability to maintain self‑sufficiency may be severely tested. Despite the optimistic statements we're hearing on the local channels, anyone with a piece of paper and a pencil can do the math; we are looking at an endurance test, a very serious survival situation that could last a period of months or even years. The bubble in the pipeline will start arriving in three days. If we don't have it on Luna now, we won't have it at all. There's no reason to panic, of course; our current resource inventory is strong, and we have a strong production posture. But we need to prepare as if for the worst, as if this interruption will be long‑term, or even permanent. If it is, then Lunar Authority may have to suspend outgoing traffic and confiscate all appropriate resources for the common good–at least for the duration of the emergency."
Cavanaugh's expression had gone from stony to sour. He didn't like what he was hearing; apparently neither did anyone else in the chamber. Representative Domitz's deadpan delivery sounded almost like a done deal. There was audible muttering from behind us, and very hostile.
She waited while Judge Cavanaugh hammered the room back to silence, then she continued. "Authority has information that suggests that these chips or devices represent a very high level of processing and storage technology. If this is in fact the case–and we hope to determine that during the course of this hearing–then acting under the emergency powers granted by the Self‑Sufficiency Act, Lunar Authority will move to acquire custody of these devices. We will apply these resources for the common good of the people of Luna, for the duration of the emergency or until such time as it is determined that these resources are no longer needed to ensure the proper functioning of Lunar society." She took a breath. "Therefore, acting as a representative of Lunar Authority, I am officially requesting that this court notdetermine final custody of the chips or devices until such time as the full scale of the emergency on Terra is known and has been evaluated for its effects on Luna. Thank you, Your Honor."
Judge Cavanaugh finished what he was writing. He looked up and said, "Thank you, Representative Domitz. The court will take your request under consideration. It doesn't look like a final determination of custody is going to be made anytime this century. If Lunar Authority does invoke the Self‑Sufficiency Act before a final ruling of ownership can be made, then this court will make the chips immediately available for emergency use–with the proviso that whatever data may already be stored in these chips not be compromised, so that at the end of the emergency, their value remains undamaged."