The front door flies open. There's a brief glimpse of a New York alleyway, and the sound of quite a few people, but that doesn't last long. This is because Ray fairly leaps through the door and slams it shut behind him
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"That was English!" Ray protests. "I built a lightsaber a while ago, from scratch- designed it from the bottom up and grew the focusing and central crystals myself. I had to design the power cells from practically nothing because if I couldn't make it with twenty-first century technology then I didn't deserve to have it. It took me months. I finally managed to get all the components right and aligned the crystal properly and everything, and it switched on and worked perfectly. I've had it with me ever since, and I've had to use it once or twice on our ghostbusting runs, but last night-"
He picks up his coffee and drains about half the cup.
"Well, yesterday during the evening rush hour we had an emergency bust at Grand Central Station, and the ghosts- a whole swarm of Class Fours that tried to enclose people in these huge purplish slime-bubbles- came at us en masse when we ran in. I didn't think it would be a good idea to blast our way out, because the proton streams might hit somebody on the outside of the bubble if we fired them straight in front of us, so I took out the 'sabre and cut my way out. And, um, a security camera picked up on it, and the footage wound up on the seven o'clock news, and then the ten o'clock news, and then the Internet, and now I have every fanboy wannabe Jedi in Manhattan camping on my doorstep wanting to know how I pulled it off."
He may be exaggerating a bit. Ray occasionally wibbles in the face of the freaky.
"Sounds like some story alright. That would be big news anywhere, making something from a movie into the real thing. Not quite as big as landing on the moon, but up there." No doubt that Knox would be one of the reporters lining up outisde the firehouse, either.
"Let me guess...you got the tech here in the first place. Which makes explaining it at all hard." Whichis something Knox gets. "But you can't you just tell them it's a really advanced device? Or expensive?"
"That," Ray says evenly, "would be the problem. I sort of patented the process for making the major critical components. Like I said... if I couldn't do it using my time's tech and resources, then I didn't deserve to have it. I didn't patent the device itself, or even publish the schematics necessary, but the molecular-layer deposition method of photonic crystal production? That's in the public record. Same deal for the ultra-high energetic yield K-14 power cells that I use to run the thing. Granted, that means that I'm the only one with the capacity for creating the device at the moment, but you try telling that to the fans."
He shakes his head ruefully. "I think I'd feel better about it if it were the philosophical ones turning up at the Firehouse. The ones who're banging on the door have an extremely thin line between fantasy and reality and I don't think they understood the fact that I wouldn't trust them with anything more dangerous than string. That's why I want the document from Lucasfilm. Then I can say 'sorry, even if I wanted to tell you, I can't, they'd incarcerate my ass'."
"Yup. You need a lawyer. Maybe a whole bunch of them. 'Fraid I can't help you much, since I'm not from the same time, or world, or field. You need a defense attorney in Gotham, call me. You need a patent lawyer or copyright lawyer...the best I can do is tell you who handles rights for the paper.
"And I don't know if I've ever heard of anyone seeking an injunction against themselves. You sure you want to open that can of worms? I don't know much about Lucas, but those Hollywood types can be a headache." And the fact that Knox doesn't know Lucas is not really a Hoolywood type proves how little he knows.
Ray looks as if he wants to whimper. "Honestly? No. I really don't. The last time anyone brought an injunction into my general vicinity it really didn't go well. Like, boom, not go well. I just don't know what else to do at this point. Especially since I'm working on two more crystals for my nephews' training sabers."
Knox makes a bit of a face at this last bit. "First thing you do, if you don't mind a bit of advice, is stop making more sabers. You want to tell people you can't make more? Then don't.
"Second, come clean with the press. We don't like getting the runaround, and if you tell them anything that seems like you're doing that, they will side with these fans. Tell the truth, work with us, and it will smooth things out."
Ray sighs. "It's not that I don't- it's not that I don't want to be able to make any more, because I really don't mind if it's people that I trust. But these are not people that I trust. I don't know them, I don't like them, they scare me, and I want them to go back to their arguments over whether TRON could kick Palpatine's ass if Palpy got sucked into the mainframe and digitized. That's all."
He nods. "I don't like messing with the press. You guys were really good to us during the whole run-up to Mr. Stay-Puft. Frankly? I'd rather deal with the reporters than the people in the Ki-Adi-Mundi wigs outside my door."
"Yeah, reporters tend not to wear funny costumes. Even on Halloween." Which is on Knox's mind since it's two days till October 31 at home.
"Thing is, though, you've made a weapon. And that makes it more than just 'who do you trust?' I bet you'll be getting a call from the cops, or ATF, or the army, asking about it. You might need a lawyer just for that." The things you learn just covering Gotham are large.
Ray laughs tiredly. "I'm not worried about the NYPD. Or the Army, for that matter. The NYPD likes us for taking a load of the crazies off their hands as part of our daily work, and the Army, well... Mr. Knox, what would you say if I told you that the primary tool of my trade is a nuclear accelerator that fits on a man's back and fires high-energy particle streams?"
"We got them licensed about a month after the Stay-Puft incident," Ray says. "It took a little fast talking, but everything's legal. The Army came sniffing around but after Spengler and I laid out exactly what would happen if two of the streams crossed, they turned around and left. Apparently an army that has to put 'this end towards enemy' on their rocket launchers doesn't trust its men in the field with devices that could cause every molecule in their bodies to explode at the speed of light. Go fig, huh?"
Of course, he's had some help and fixed the protonic reversal issue, but he didn't feel compelled to mention this to the nice men from Fort Totten.
"Want to? I've been using it since late 2003. Pretty nearly every day, as a matter of fact." Ray shrugs. "I mean, I did alter it after I first came here so that the total protonic reversal wouldn't be a threat, but I added biometric scanning to the security system for the pack so unauthorized goobers couldn't activate it. It's not that bad once you get the hang of it, really."
Knox is dubious, but the evidence - Ray hasn't blown up yet - is pretty convincing for its safety. "Think I'll pass. Besides, the pen is mightier than the sword. Or the particle stream." Not that Knox will ever use that expression again without recalling the Joker's murderous literalization of it.
He picks up his coffee and drains about half the cup.
"Well, yesterday during the evening rush hour we had an emergency bust at Grand Central Station, and the ghosts- a whole swarm of Class Fours that tried to enclose people in these huge purplish slime-bubbles- came at us en masse when we ran in. I didn't think it would be a good idea to blast our way out, because the proton streams might hit somebody on the outside of the bubble if we fired them straight in front of us, so I took out the 'sabre and cut my way out. And, um, a security camera picked up on it, and the footage wound up on the seven o'clock news, and then the ten o'clock news, and then the Internet, and now I have every fanboy wannabe Jedi in Manhattan camping on my doorstep wanting to know how I pulled it off."
He may be exaggerating a bit. Ray occasionally wibbles in the face of the freaky.
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"Let me guess...you got the tech here in the first place. Which makes explaining it at all hard." Whichis something Knox gets. "But you can't you just tell them it's a really advanced device? Or expensive?"
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He shakes his head ruefully. "I think I'd feel better about it if it were the philosophical ones turning up at the Firehouse. The ones who're banging on the door have an extremely thin line between fantasy and reality and I don't think they understood the fact that I wouldn't trust them with anything more dangerous than string. That's why I want the document from Lucasfilm. Then I can say 'sorry, even if I wanted to tell you, I can't, they'd incarcerate my ass'."
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"And I don't know if I've ever heard of anyone seeking an injunction against themselves. You sure you want to open that can of worms? I don't know much about Lucas, but those Hollywood types can be a headache." And the fact that Knox doesn't know Lucas is not really a Hoolywood type proves how little he knows.
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"Second, come clean with the press. We don't like getting the runaround, and if you tell them anything that seems like you're doing that, they will side with these fans. Tell the truth, work with us, and it will smooth things out."
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He nods. "I don't like messing with the press. You guys were really good to us during the whole run-up to Mr. Stay-Puft. Frankly? I'd rather deal with the reporters than the people in the Ki-Adi-Mundi wigs outside my door."
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"Thing is, though, you've made a weapon. And that makes it more than just 'who do you trust?' I bet you'll be getting a call from the cops, or ATF, or the army, asking about it. You might need a lawyer just for that." The things you learn just covering Gotham are large.
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"I'd say you're nuts. And that the city is nuts for letting you use that.
"And no one has asked you to add that to the Star Wars program? I mean the one Reagan came up with, not the movie."
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Of course, he's had some help and fixed the protonic reversal issue, but he didn't feel compelled to mention this to the nice men from Fort Totten.
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