Chapter 11
He did not say it dramatically.
That made it more believable.
“The pilot program succeeded. More hospitals came in. Venture capital arrived. Jason became very good at being the public face of the company.”
I stared at the condensation on my water glass.
“And I became good at being invisible.”
“I wouldn't phrase it that way.”
“I would.”
He nodded.
“Fair enough.”
During the years after my recovery, I had returned gradually.
Not to engineering.
Not fully.
I joined the safety division, where I helped build testing standards stronger than the ones that had failed during the ARIA prototype phase.
Eventually, I was overseeing internal compliance reviews.
But Jason kept me away from investors.
At first, I had been grateful.
Public speaking terrified me after the accident.
Later, when I wanted more authority, he told me changing leadership structures would make investors nervous.
There was always a reason.
Always a later.
Always a next quarter.
I looked at Samuel.
“Why are you testifying for Jason?”
“I was subpoenaed by his attorney.”
“That's not what I asked.”
Samuel held my gaze.
“Because some things Jason has said are true.”
Daniel's pen stopped.
“Such as?”
“He built much of the commercial organization. He recruited the first sales staff. He negotiated distribution. He raised several rounds of capital. Whatever else happened, he did build enormous value.”
I was surprised by my own answer.
“I know.”
Samuel studied me.
“You don't sound angry about that.”
“I don't want what isn't mine.”
That sentence changed something in his expression.
Perhaps he had expected me to ask for the entire company.
I didn't.
I didn't want to erase Jason.
I wanted to stop being erased myself.
Samuel reached into his briefcase again.
“There is another issue.”
Daniel gave a small sigh.
“Of course there is.”
For the first time, Samuel almost laughed.
Then his expression became serious.
“The original ARIA architecture is not the only material derived from your research.”
I frowned.
“What else?”
“The company's newest product.”
My pulse changed.
Mitchell Medical Technologies had spent four years developing a home rehabilitation platform called Meridian.
Meridian was supposed to become the company's future.
Investors loved it.
Analysts loved it.
Jason had once called it the product that would make our early work look primitive.
“What about Meridian?”
Samuel opened another folder.
“I reviewed the technical filings last year. Some of the adaptive-response methodology appears to derive from experimental work in your Westbridge notebooks.”