Makers Part 50

:: No no it's totally do-able we can raise that easy just set up some paypals and publicize the s.h.i.t out of it

The next speaker was talking. "What if we got the maintenance bots to break open the doors and carry the ride outside where everyone can see it?"

Bright red. Dumb idea.

Perry broke in. "I'm worried that when people show up it'll provoke some kind of confrontation with the law. It could get ugly here. How can we keep that cooled out?"

Green.

"That's totally got to be our top priority," Hilda said.

Next speaker. "OK, so the best way to keep people calm is to tell them that there's an alternative to going nuts, which maybe could be raising money for a legal defense."

Green-ish. "What about finding pro-bono lawyers? What about the ACLU or EFF?"

Greener.

The back-channel filled up with URLs and phone numbers and email addresses.

"OK, time's running out here," Perry said. "You guys need to organize a call-around to those orgs and see if they'll help us out. Pa.s.s the hat at your rides, try to find lawyers. Everyone keep reporting in all day -- especially if you get a win anywhere. I'm going to go take care of things here."

Hilda IMed him -- "Good luck, Perry. You'll kick a.s.s."

Perry started to IM back, but a shadow fell across his screen. It was Jason, who ran the contact-lens stall. He was staring at the two cop-cars quizzically, looking groggy but growing alarmed.

Perry closed his lid and got to his feet. "Morning, Jason." Behind Jason were five or six other vendors. The sellers who lived in the shantytown and could therefore walk to work were always first in. Soon the commuters would start arriving in their beater cars.

"Hey, Perry," Jason said. He was chewing on an unlit cigarette, a disgusting habit that was only marginally less gross than smoking them. He'd tried toothpicks, but nothing would satisfy his oral cravings like a filter-tip. At least he didn't light them. "What's up?"

Perry told him what he knew, which wasn't much. Jason listened carefully, as did the other vendors who arrived. "They're f.u.c.king with you, man. The cops, Disney, all of them. Just f.u.c.king with you. You go ahead and hire a lawyer to go to the court for you and see how far it gets you. They're not playing by any rules, they're not interested in the law you broke or whatever. They just want to f.u.c.k with you."

Suzanne appeared over Perry's shoulder.

"I'm Suzanne Church, Jason. I'm a reporter."

"Sure, I know you. You were there when they burned down the old place."

"That was me. I think you're right. They're f.u.c.king with you guys. I want to report on that because it might be that exposing it makes it harder to continue. Can I record what you guys say and do?"

Jason grinned and slid the soggy cig from one corner of his mouth to the other and back again. "Sure, that's cool with me." He turned to the other sellers: "You guys don't mind, do you?" They joked and laughed and said no. Perry let out a breath slowly. These guys didn't want a confrontation with the cops -- they knew better than him that they couldn't win that one.

Suzanne started interviewing them. The cops got out of their cars and stared at them. The woman cop had her mirrorshades on now, and so the both of them looked hard and eyeless. Perry looked away quickly.

The vendors with cars were pulling them around to the roadside leading up to the ride, unpacking merchandise and setting it out on their hoods. Vendors from the shantytown headed home and came back with folding tables and blankets. These guys were business-people. They weren't going to let the law stand in the way of putting food on the table for their families.

The cops got back into their cars. Kettlewell worked his way cautiously across the freeway, climbing laboriously over the median. He had changed into a smart blazer and slacks, with a crisp white shirt that hid his incipient belly. He looked like the Kettlewell of old, the kind of man used to giving orders and getting respect.

"Hey, man," Perry said. Kettlewell's easy smile was rea.s.suring.

"Perry," he said, throwing an arm around his shoulders and leading him away. "Come here and talk with me."

They stood in the lee of one of the sickly palms that stood by the roadside. The day was coming up hot and Perry's t-shirt stuck to his chest, though Kettlewell seemed dry and in control.

"What's going on, Perry?"

"Well, we did a phoner this morning with all the ride operators. They're going to work on raising money for the defense and getting pro-bono lawyers from the EFF or the ACLU or something."

Kettlewell did a double-take. "Wait, what? They're going to ask the ACLU? They can't be trusted, Perry. They're *impact litigators* -- they'll take cases to make a point, even when it's not in their clients' best interests."

"What could be more in our interests than getting lawyers to fight these bogus injunctions?"

Kettlewell blew out a long breath. "OK, table it. Table it. Here's what I've been pulling together: we've got a s.h.i.tkicking corporate firm that used to handle the Kodacell business that's sending out a partner to go to the Broward County court this morning to get the injunction lifted. They're doing this as a freebie, but I told them that they could handle the business if we put together all the rides into one ent.i.ty."

Now it was Perry's turn to boggle. "What kind of ent.i.ty?"

"We have to incorporate them all, get them all under one umbrella so that we can defend them all in one go. Otherwise there's no way we're going to be able to save them. Without a corporate ent.i.ty, it's like trying to herd cats. Besides, you need some kind of structure, a formal const.i.tution or something for this thing. You've got a network protocol, and that's it. There's money at stake here -- potentially some big money -- and you can't run something like that on a handshake. It's too vulnerable. You'll get embezzled or sued into oblivion before you even have a chance to grow. So I've started the paperwork to get everything under one banner."

Perry counted to ten, backwards. "Landon, I'm really thankful that you're helping us out here. You're probably going to save our a.s.ses. But you can't put everything under one banner -- you can't just declare to these people that their projects are ours --"

"Of course they're yours. They're using your IP, your protocols, your designs.... If they don't come on board, you can just threaten to sue them --"

"Landon! Please listen to me. We are not going to effect a hostile takeover of my friends. They are equal owners of everything we do here. And no offense, but if you ever mention suing other projects over our 'IP'" -- he made sarcastic finger quotes -- "then we're through having any discussions about this. OK?"

Kettlewell snorted air through his nostrils. "My apologies, I didn't realize that this was such a sensitive area for you." Perry boggled at this -- lawsuits against ride operators! "But I can get that. Here's the thing, Perry. Without some kind of fast-moving structure you're going to be dead. Even if we repel the boarders this morning, they'll be back tomorrow and the day after. You need something stronger than a bunch of friends who have loose agreements. You need a legal ent.i.ty that can speak for everyone. Maybe that's a co-op or a charity or something else, but it's got to exist. You may not think you have any say over these other rides, but does everyone else agree? What if you get sued for someone's bad deeds in Minneapolis? What if some ride operator sues *you* to put you out of business?"

Perry's head swam. He hated conversations like this. He didn't have any good answer for Kettlewell's objections, but it was ridiculous. No one from a ride was going to sue him. Or maybe they would, if he got all grabby and went MINE MINE MINE and incorporated everything with him at the top. Hilda said he was the one they all looked to, but that was because he would never try to hijack their projects.

"No."

"No what?"

"No to all of it. We have to defend this thing, but we're not going to do it by trying to tie everyone down to contracts and agreements where I get to control everything. Maybe a co-op is the right way to go, but we can't just declare a co-op and force everyone to be members. We have to get everyone to agree, everyone who's involved, and then they can elect a council or something and work out some kind of uniform agreement. I mean, that's how all the good free software projects work. There's authority, but it's not all unilateral and imperious. I'm not interested in that. I'd rather shut this down than declare myself pope-emperor of ride-land."

Kettlewell scrubbed his eyes with his fists. Up close, the lines in his face were deep-sunk, his eyeb.a.l.l.s bloodshot and hung over. "You're killing me, you know that? What good is principle going to do when they knock this f.u.c.king thing down and slap you with a gigantic lawsuit?"

Perry shrugged. "I really appreciate what you've done, but I'd rather lose it than f.u.c.k it up."

They stared at each other for a long time. Cars whizzed past. Perry felt like a big jerk. Kettlewell had done amazing work for him this morning, just out of the goodness of his own heart, and Perry had repaid him by being a stiff-necked d.i.c.kwad. He felt an overwhelming desire to take it back, just put Kettlewell in charge and let him run the whole show. Just shrug his shoulders and abdicate.

He looked down at the ground and up into the straggly palms, then heaved a sigh.

"Landon, I'm sorry, OK, but that's just how it is. I totally dig that you're saying that we're risking everything by not doing it your way, but from my seat, doing it your way will kill it anyway. So we need a better answer."

Kettlewell scrubbed his eyes some more. "You and my wife sound like you'd get along."

Perry waited for him to go on, but it became clear he had nothing more to say.

Perry went back to the cop cars just as the first gang of goths showed up to take a ride.