The Next Day When Bill Was Turning in His Proposal the Programmer from Whom He Stole The

Josh Turpen
09/24/2003
CS-495
Senior Project Vignette
Giving Proper Credit for Intellectual Property
Bill Tobin is in serious trouble. He is three weeks behind in his project at work, and he has a status meeting in fifteen minutes. It isn’t his fault he tells himself. His wife has just had their fourth child, and he had to spend a great deal of his time at home taking care of the other three children. The pressures of work were far greater than he had ever expected in college. In college nothing was on the line except his grade. Now his future, and the future of his family, is on the line.
The smell of stale potato chips and sweat filled his office. The phone rings loudly startling him out of his moment on memory lane. “Hello, Bill Tobin.” After about five minutes he finally gets off the phone. Ten minutes left. His wife has just cost him more time. “Just calling to say hi,” she had said. Well he doesn’t have time for just saying hi. Much less time for hearing about the newest thing the baby has done. Doesn’t she understand that he had a job to do! Nobody understands the pressure he is under. Even his co-workers don’t understand. He is watching the clock now; no real action is being taken. He could almost hear is boss telling him to clear out his desk. The world is crashing down around him, and he is sure the he will be crushed underneath it.
Bill's life wasn’t been this bad ten months ago. When he had first won the right to work on the new contract he was elevated to management, and given a large raise. In this he had felt incredibly lucky. At thirty-two he was the youngest department manager in the company, and the pressure of such honor was not lost on Bill. The new title, and more importantly the new money, had put pressure on him to give into his wife's wishes for another child. Life was going well for Bill Tobin. So well in fact that he had almost been able to forget how he had won the contract.
Bill had been under pressure at work to start performing better. He had never been a very good engineer, even in college he had struggled with his engineering courses. This pressure had sent him on the search around the computer network at work to find a way to help his proposal. Bill knew that other people at the company were working on similar projects, and he was hoping to find some inspiration in one of these. What he found was a lot more than inspiration; he found the solution to his problem. At least, he thought he did.
Another programmer at the company had been doing work on the same algorithm. His algorithm was brilliant, but incomplete. Bill was a decent enough programmer to know genius when he saw it, and he grew more excited the more he read. He understood that the algorithm was not complete, but he would have twelve months to complete it. Plenty of time he told himself. After several hours of changing bits of code, and covering his tracks, Bill left for the day secure in the knowledge that he had solved all his problems.

The next day when Bill was turning in “his” proposal the programmer from whom he stole the code was frantically searching for it. See, Bill couldn’t leave any trace of the program lying around for fear that someone would claim credit, or worse yet, catch on to Bill’s treachery. As one man was building his worth to the company another man was being crushed. The programmer lost his job after failing to meet expectations. He had nothing to show for months worth of work. Bill isn’t completely heartless, he felt bad at the time. However, his new found prestige quickly erased any feelings of guilt. While the programmer was cleaning out his cubicle, Bill was moving into his new larger office. While the programmer was telling his family about loosing their only source of income, Bill was taking his out to a celebratory dinner.

Fast forward twelve months and we see Bill in his current situation. Bill wasn’t smart enough to figure out the algorithm in the first place, and he hasn’t gotten any smarter with the passing of time. Bill can’t complete the program. He bought himself some extra time three weeks ago with some smooth talking and bold promises, but time is about up. In fact, there are only three minutes left until his status meeting. The tension in Bill’s office is only rivaled by the silence. The air conditioner kicks on and sounds like the rumbling of a freight train. Bill stares out the window, oblivious now to the time, lost in thought.

He is picturing the looks on his coworker’s faces as he was awarded the project. He can hear his wife’s screams of delight at being told that they could finally have their next child. He is reliving all of the congratulations from family and friends. The intercom on his desk goes off and startles him. It is finally time for the meeting, and Bill knows what he has to do. He gets up from his comfortable leather desk chair and walks over to the table that his briefcase is laying on. As he walks across the carpet he hears is own feet shuffling. The sound of the copier outside, the smell of the toner, the laughter of someone passing his office door on the way to the meeting; these are the last sensations that Bill Tobin has. He never hears the opening clicks of his briefcase, or the cocking of the hammer on the gun he removes from it. Bill has crossed beyond the world of normal senses. Just before he stains the Oriental rug that his father bought him for his large, important new office Bill has a last fleeting glimpse of the first time he ever saw his wife, and then the silence closes in.