Qubit's Incubator. Charley Brindley

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СКАЧАТЬ see we have printers, a scanner, and a copy machine, but no Three-D printer.”

      “Why do you want a Three-D printer?”

      “I want to print a hand, and also some organic circuits.” Catalina noticed from the corner of her eye the redhead looking at her, then the woman looked at Victor.

      “What type of Three-D printer are we talking about?”

      “A Dremel Three-D-Twenty.”

      The other woman wrote on her notepad. “How do you spell that?” she asked.

      Catalina spelled it for her.

      “What will you do with the hand and circuits?”Victor asked.

      “The echolocation AI program I’m writing will need tons of data for machine learning.”

      “Yes, I suppose it will. What computer language are you using?”

      “Python.”

      “Is it hard to learn?”

      “Well, if you’re familiar with Perl and Java, it’s not too difficult.”

      “Hmm…I see.”

      “What’s with the dorm rooms?” Catalina asked.

      “Candidates with special circumstances will sometimes be assigned to a dorm room.”

      “Define ‘special circumstances.’”

      “After two weeks, if you’re still here, we’ll talk about that. In the meantime, I need your statements from the four credit card companies and any other past-due bills you have.”

      “They don’t send paper statements anymore.”

      “But you can email them to me, right?”

      “Yes.”

      “And your bank statement.”

      Catalina glanced at the redhead, who was taking notes again.

      “Mr. Templeton,” Catalina said. “Why do you need my financials?”

      “Curiosity. Is it a problem?”

      She shrugged. “I guess not.”

      “Is there anything else you need?” he asked.

      “AWS Cloud Computing would be nice.”

      “Why do you need that?”

      “My iPad won’t be able to handle the data-crunching.”

      “We have a Power Edge T-Six-Thirty server.”

      “I used that to get online, but it’s too old and slow. It would take a year to process one hour’s worth of data.”

      “We’ll discuss AWS after two weeks. Anything else?”

      Catalina shook her head.

      Victor opened a manila folder and removed some papers. He slid them across the desk.

      “What’s this?” Catalina asked.

      “Our contract.”

      She flipped through the papers. “Eight pages?”

      “No, just four. There’re two copies.”

      After reading the first paragraph, she turned to page four and saw a place for her signature. He’d already signed his name.

      “Take it home with you tonight and read it over. You can sign it tomorrow.”

      “And if I don’t sign?”

      “Then we can’t help you.”

      She stared at the contract for a moment. “Can you give me the abridged version? Just the high points?”

      “It says Qubit’s Incubator agrees to provide a safe and quiet workspace for you in exchange for five percent of the net profits, if any, from any product or idea produced during the term of this contract. You may receive other benefits as deemed necessary.”

      “It takes four pages to say that?”

      “There’s a lot of legal details. That’s why I think you should take the time to read it before you sign you name.”

      “What if I never produce a marketable product?”

      “Then we terminate the contract, and you’re free to leave us, owing nothing.”

      Catalina held out her hand to the redhead, palm up.

      “What?” the redhead asked.

      “Your pen.”

      Catalina signed the first copy, passed it to Victor, then signed her copy.

      “Okay.” He placed the contract in the folder. “How’s your workspace?”

      “It’s fine. A little bleak, but that’s okay. What’s the work schedule?”

      He handed her a key card. “If you leave after six p.m., be sure the door is locked. I expect everyone to be here from eight to five, except Sunday and Sunday Plus One.”

      “Sunday Plus One?”

      “We used to call it Monday, but we no longer have Mondays. On the day after Sunday, everyone comes in late and leaves anytime after two. Tuesday is the start of eight-to-five. Saturdays are casual, come in late, leave early. You’re free to come in on Sunday if you want to.”

      “Okay. Do many people work late?”

      “Most of the probationers put in a lot of time.”

      “Probationers?”

      “You’re here on probation for the first thirty days. I think probationers are called ‘Pissants’ out there.” Victor tilted his head toward the bullpen.

      “Yes, and the Drones get cubicles.”

      “They do.”

      “And Monarchs get upstairs offices?”

      He nodded.

      “How does a Drone become a Monarch?” Catalina asked.

      “Receive a patent on an idea or device.”

      “A patent. Okay.”

      “Do you have to give that café…” He glanced at the redhead.

      “Hugo’s Blue Plate Special,” she said.

      “How did you…” Catalina began. “Nevermind.”

      “Do you have to give notice when you decide to quit?”

      “It’s just a phone call. СКАЧАТЬ