The Whistleblower

Photo by: Roger Bultot

I expected a whistleblower case. I met her at the boardwalk.

Esmerelda sat looking at the gantry where humanity’s first interstellar spaceship took off. “It was a small design firm,” she said. “Everyone did lots of jobs. He hired me as a secretary. Before it was done, I designed ninety-percent of the XV-11.”

“But William Tull made hundreds of billions off that design. Did he pay you?”

“Paid me a secretary’s wage.”

I saw dollar signs. “Well, let’s sue him! He owes you billions at least.”

“Naw.”

“Why not?”

“I ran accounting too.” Esmerelda smiled.  “Islands are cheap these days.”
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Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2020/12/09/11-december-2020/