Executive Dirt: A Sedona O'Hala Mystery by Maria Schneider Page B

the phone. We had to make sure it was a better name than Apple’s Siri so there was even prize money for the winning name. “The contest period hasn’t ended yet, has it?” I asked, trying to remember the email from over a week ago.
    Cary made a guttural snarling noise without his face ever changing from its surgical perfection. “Whoever comes up with the name for the assistant must be on the patent.  Any of us can do better than Apple’s ‘Siri’ or Amazon’s ‘Alexa’.” He snorted and rolled his eyes.  “The name I submitted is quite obviously the winner. It will become a household name! We can’t afford to leave it—or me—off the patent.”
    Monique piped up with, “Oh, I’m quite certain marketing will win the naming contest. And, I do agree that it’s a great idea that whoever comes up with the winning name be on the patent.”  She beamed a thousand-watt smile at Lawrence.
    His eyes widened slightly, perhaps in panic.
    “Marketing should be disqualified from entering since you’ve been assigned to select the winner!” Cary sputtered. “That’s corrupt!”
    “Why not make the naming of the phone assistant user configurable?” I suggested.  I certainly wouldn’t vote for whatever name Cary had submitted.  And it was possible that Monique’s pick would be worse.  The woman wore pants that said “Doll Baby” across her butt.  “There at least needs to be the ability to select from one of two names, maybe one a female name and the other a male name.  But honestly, when you consider what some people name their pets, it’s probably best we leave the naming up to the user.”  Everyone was staring at me again.  The room had gone silent.
    “What?” I asked, spreading my hands.
    “That’s actually a very good idea,” Kovid said.
    Howard opened his mouth, sputtered out a half squawk and then fell silent.
    Cary waved one hand as if batting at a mosquito. “Let the user choose? That’s hardly enough of an idea to get on a patent.  We’d do better with a unique name, one we can trademark. We need it to represent the company!” His face had gone blotchy red.  Interestingly enough, the area around his mouth didn’t change color, but it was kind of puffed out as if it might fall off or explode at any minute.  Wow.  Just how much silicone was in there anyway?
    The meeting dissolved into a shouting match between Howard and Monique, with Cary throwing in wild ideas and more than a few new patent demands.
    When we finally disbanded, I checked company policy to see just how much of a bonus we were talking about for being named on a patent.  “Ah. Five thousand dollars—and the possibility of an executive position.”  I scanned through the executive officers. Lawrence already had a patent, apparently.  The CFO, CEO and COO all had patents.  Most of the board members had patents. It must be some kind of badge of honor with these people.
    Well, if they had obtained their patents the way Cary was going about it, the intellectual property award was probably not what the U.S. Patent Office had in mind.
    An email from Cary popped into my inbox before I could leave for lunch. Of course it was marked “urgent.”  All of his emails arrived with flames, threats and exclamation marks.
    “All feature changes, enhancements and product ideas must be submitted through me from now on,” the email read.  It went on to stress the necessity of being a team player and discussing any possible enhancement to code, to products, and to company policy with him before so much as sharing it with yourself. He included a long list of examples such as color, phone skin designs, handicap improvements and so on.
    “Yeah, little late, buddy.  This thing is halfway done.”  He probably didn’t even care about the cash, but a chance at an executive position? He’d sell his boat and house for that.
    I grabbed a sandwich from the break room and went outside to call Mark and fill him in on how the Pig