American History 1988
Chapter 160 - 154 Let Me Do It

Chapter 160: Chapter 154 Let Me Do It

Perhaps it was just a coincidence, as Bill still pondered over the recent event after parking the car in the garage.

"Bill, I’m heading to the supermarket, and don’t forget to help Jimmy with his homework later," Olyna said as she grabbed her purse and hurriedly left the house.

"OK~" Bill shrugged helplessly. A few years ago, he had met Olyna and soon after embarked on his second marriage.

Now their son was in first grade, which meant Bill had to undertake the job of tutoring a child’s homework for the second time.

Although American kids usually finish their written homework within fifteen minutes, and parents don’t need to intervene too much,

they still have to ensure that the child completes the homework in a quiet environment and stays focused without distractions.

Moreover, Olyna was always quite strict with the child, hoping that Jimmy could get into a good university, like Stanford to the northwest.

Bill tiptoed upstairs and, through the crack in the door, observed Jimmy concentrating on his textbook.

Without making a sound, Bill went back downstairs, turned on the TV and set the volume to the lowest.

CNN, VOA, ABC... Bill flipped through each channel, finding them uninteresting after less than two minutes of watching.

As he periodically pressed the remote, the images on the TV changed one after the other.

The topics they were discussing didn’t interest Bill at all; he just didn’t want to sit in silence.

Whenever there was no noise around him, Bill would start to feel tense.

In the jungles of South Vietnam, silence often meant that death was approaching.

One by one, Bill’s comrades had fallen in the rarely trodden rainforest.

Since then, Bill had hated quietness, although he himself was a man of few words, which wasn’t a contradiction.

Suddenly, a face on the TV caught Bill’s attention... that face...

Though the memory was hazy, Bill still found a familiar impression.

Unconsciously increasing the volume with his remote, Bill stared intently at the TV screen.

"I’m just a country boy from the Rust Belt... My father and mother both went to work at the factory without graduating from high school..."

The face on the TV overlapped with the memories in his mind, and Bill realized this was no coincidence.

"Daddy?!" came Jimmy’s childish voice from upstairs.

"Oh, Sorry~" Bill hurriedly turned the volume down to the lowest again.

He glanced up at the room upstairs, ensuring that all was still, before refocusing on the television.

However, the face had disappeared, and the screen was back to covering the monotonous issue of racial discrimination.

Bill looked outside the window; the sunset had gone, and the evening had darkened.

Now was not a good time; perhaps day would be better.

...

"Sir, do you know me?" Dean tried to rummage through his memory, but after a few seconds of vain effort, came up empty-handed.

"When did you move from Ohio to California?"

Dean was taken aback, finally convinced. The man across from him definitely knew him, and might even be an acquaintance from Ohio.

"Last year," Dean answered truthfully, "I’m studying here now."

"I know," said the voice tinged with a hint of relief, "you got into Stanford, that’s great."

"So sir, you are...?" Dean’s curiosity was growing stronger.

"I’m Bill, your uncle."

...

Half an hour later, at a coffee shop in Mountain View.

"Dean, you should tell me," Bill said as he slowly stirred the coffee in front of him.

"I just..." Dean spread his hands, at a loss for words, "I had no idea Uncle Bill you were so close by."

Before reporting to Stanford, Aunt Rachel had given him a contact number.

The owner of that phone number was the Bill Dreaper sitting before him, but Dean had never taken the initiative to call that number.

Because he didn’t know what reason to use to reach out to Uncle Bill from his childhood memories.

He and Aunt Rachel were divorced, and he might already have his own life.

Dean wasn’t sure if he even remembered him, and since Aunt Rachel said to seek him out only if there was trouble, that gave Dean even less reason to make the call.

"Dean," Bill slowed his stirring and looked up, "you haven’t disappointed me; you’re as clever as when you were little."

"Thanks, I’m lucky I persisted," Dean slowly recalled memories from the past.

"I know among the entire Price family, only you held the hope of leaving that small city, you’re different from the others there."

Bill was sure of his judgment, and indeed, he had been right.

"Come over when you’re free; I’ll introduce you to Olyna and the others, Jimmy will like you."

"I will," Dean nodded. Now that Uncle Bill was also in Silicon Valley, he had no reason not to visit.

"Have you run into some trouble lately?" Bill casually shifted the topic to Dean’s current situation, "I saw the news report about you on TV."

"Well," Dean spread his hands, "you know, Uncle Bill, this is very normal in America. Especially in Silicon Valley, litigation is an essential path for a company’s growth."

"Good," Bill was pleased with Dean’s optimistic attitude, "so where is the problem stuck now?"

Since he already knew, there was no need for Dean to hide anything. "Bell’s patents, and the court’s decision."

Dean then detailed the dispute between Byte Company and Bell.

Of course, this also included the various possible court decisions and their potential impact on Byte Company.

"So the court’s decision is critical?" Bill pondered.

"Of course," Dean nodded affirmatively, "but we already have a contingency plan, and our lawyers are confident in achieving the best possible outcome."

"The United States District Court for the Northern District of California, right?" Bill’s focus was not on the result that Dean mentioned.

"Uh... yes," Dean had to catch up with his train of thought, "that’s the court where the lawsuit was filed."

"I’ll contact a few friends to see if they can help out." Bill tapped his spoon against the rim of his cup and then began to savor his coffee with concentration.

"Okay... no! Wait!" Dean suddenly realized, "Uncle Bill, there’s no need to bother, Byte Software has already hired a team of specialized lawyers who are very adept at this type of litigation."

"Can they convince the judge to make a favorable decision for Byte Company?" Bill curiously looked at Dean.

Taken aback for a couple of seconds, Dean gave an honest answer, "No, that’s not certain; it depends on the efforts of the team."

"OK, then let me handle it," Bill said casually, as if it were a minor matter.

"But Uncle Bill..."

"Dean," Bill interrupted him, "we are family. We were, we are, and we will continue to be."

Dean stared blankly at the aging face, which was weathered, resolute, and even carried a hint of indifference.

But in the occasional glimpse of his eyes, Dean still saw a glimmer of warmth.

"Okay, Uncle Bill."

...

"Crap! These guys are always up against Bell. If they ever report good news about Bell, it must be because it’s April Fools’ Day!"

Duane angrily threw down the newspaper on the sofa, feeling unjustly targeted when, in fact, he was not the one in control.

"Mairi, call William at AT&T. Bell has been badmouthed for so long, why is that Byte Company still jumping around."

Duane now faintly regretted his decision; perhaps it hadn’t been a good idea.

Byte Company had not been intimidated by Bell’s reputation as predicted, nor had they gone into bankruptcy due to exorbitant legal fees.

On the contrary, the litigation with Bell seemed to have helped them further their fame, and the young man had become the darling of the media.

Bell, on the other hand, not only failed to gain any advantage but even became the object of ridicule.

"Bell Octopus," look at that, such an impressively derogatory nickname.

Duane had the intuition that even if they gained some benefits this time, it wouldn’t outweigh the damage this nickname had caused to Southern Bell.

Mairi, the assistant, carefully tidied up the Washington Post from the couch, figuring it was best to keep such newspapers out of sight of her boss to avoid continuous trouble.

"Mairi, have you dug up any information on Byte Company? Who’s helping them?" Duane seemed to have calmed down, becoming rational again.

"They’ve just completed their second round of funding, rumored to be valued at seventy million US dollars," Mairi handed her prepared information to her boss.

"Damn it!" Duane cursed angrily, seventy million US dollars? After this round of funding, Byte Software was unlikely to have any financial issues again.

And that wasn’t even the worst part; he also saw the names Sequoia and KeyPoint Ventures in the document—top venture capitalists.

Aside from substantial funds, top venture capitalists also had an abundance of resources at their disposal.

Duane knew that the litigation with Byte Company wasn’t going to be resolved anytime soon.

Ding-ling-ling... the phone on his desk rang.

"Duane’s office," he answered.

"Duane, it’s me," a familiar voice came through the phone.

"Ah ha~ William, I didn’t expect you to still remember this old friend. I thought AT&T was too busy enjoying the spectacle," Duane retorted, unsparingly.

"Duane, I know the media hasn’t been too friendly recently. But trust me, it won’t last long, the hearing is over, and we’ll get the result we want."

"William, they’ve completed their second round of funding," Duane calmly reminded him, "even if you get the result you want this time, they have the resources and time to appeal, it won’t end so quickly."

"Alright, I admit there’s that possibility," William shrugged indifferently, "but AT&T isn’t going to give up, or maybe there’s another way?"

"Another way?" Duane was curious.

"Yeah, like Southern Bell selling the patent to us, and then AT&T taking over the subsequent litigation.

From then on, there won’t be any more nicknames like ’Bell Octopus,’ and Bell can get out of this scot-free," William Kennard lured him persuasively.

"What price is AT&T willing to pay?" Duane squinted his eyes slightly, weighting the pros and cons swiftly.

"Five million US dollars, not as much as we’ll claim from Byte Company. But as you know, Duane, it’s a patent that was already freely available to the industry."

"I need some time to think," Duane hung up the phone slowly.

Five million US dollars? He wondered if there was a higher bid out there.

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