"Yes. My firm has retained the correspondence."
"Will you authorize an independent review of those records?"
Martin hesitated briefly.
"My contract includes confidentiality obligations. I'll need legal advice before releasing everything. But I can provide the material necessary to establish what I handled and when I handled it."
Andrea agreed to coordinate the request through the proper legal channels.
The meeting had produced a lead, not a verdict.
There was still no proof that Northstar had taken ClearCurrent's files, and Martin's records did not establish who had removed the workshop data. Nevertheless, the commercial proposal appeared to contain technical details that had not been publicly released by Olivia's team.
That was enough to justify a formal investigation.
Caldwell turned to Martin.
"Why did you wait until now to contact us?"
Martin looked uncomfortable.
"At first, I thought the similarities might be coincidental. Then I learned that the student team's files had disappeared. I remembered the visit, and I became concerned that my report might have helped a company benefit from work it didn't own."
"Why insist that I attend?"
"Because Northstar's original partnership proposal included Caldwell Industries as a potential strategic partner. If the company was using the student project without permission, I thought your organization might have received related material."
Caldwell's expression changed.
"Did Northstar send us ClearCurrent's technical information?"
"I can't say that. But I saw a reference to Caldwell Industries in the commercial proposal."
The room fell quiet.
Caldwell's legal director retrieved the old partnership file and searched the document index. Several months earlier, Northstar had submitted a presentation describing a proposed joint venture. It included a low-cost monitoring platform intended for community facilities.
The technical appendix had not been included in the version Caldwell's team reviewed.
"Who received the complete proposal?" Caldwell asked.
"According to our records, your former commercial team," Martin replied.
Caldwell recognized the name of the project manager who had handled the submission. The employee had left the company during a restructuring that followed the Aegis Grid crisis.
"Can we contact him?"
"Yes," the legal director said. "But we'll need to establish which records remain available."
Marcus looked at the documents spread across the table.
The investigation had now uncovered three separate questions.
Who removed the ClearCurrent files?
How had similar technical material entered Northstar's proposal?
And had any of that material been shared with Caldwell Industries before the student team discovered the missing data?
The answers might be connected, but nobody could responsibly claim they were.
As the meeting ended, Martin approached Marcus.
"I want you to understand something," he said quietly. "I didn't visit your workshop because I wanted to take anything from those students."
Marcus studied him.
"I can't know your intentions from one conversation. But I can help make sure the evidence is examined fairly."
Martin nodded.
"That's all I'm asking."
He left the building with his legal representative, while Marcus and Rachel remained with Caldwell's team to organize the next steps.
On the way to the elevator, Caldwell stopped beside Marcus.
"When we first met, you found a flaw in a system built by experienced engineers. I thought the challenge was to correct the technology."
"And now?" Marcus asked.
"Now I think the challenge is to build an organization that can recognize a problem before someone has to force it into the open."
Marcus considered the answer.
"Then we need to find out what happened to Olivia's project. Otherwise, the initiative's rules won't mean much."
Caldwell agreed.
That evening, the legal director located an archived inventory of the old Northstar proposal. One entry indicated that a technical appendix had been downloaded to a shared commercial folder six months earlier.
The file's name was not ClearCurrent.
It was Project Lantern.
Nobody in the meeting recognized the title.
But when Evelyn Shaw searched the company's historical engineering records, she discovered that Project Lantern had once appeared in a list of experimental technologies reviewed by Caldwell Industries.
The project had been closed years earlier.
Its technical lead had been none other than Elliot Hayes.
And the archived record contained a note stating that the project had been discontinued because its original development files were incomplete.
Marcus stared at the screen.
The connection was unexpected, but it offered a new direction for the investigation. If Project Lantern had been an earlier attempt to develop low-cost energy monitoring, the similarities between it and ClearCurrent might have a legitimate explanation—or they might reveal how information had moved between organizations.
Either way, the next step was clear.
They needed to find Elliot Hayes and ask what Project Lantern had been, why it had been discontinued, and whether any of its original work had been shared with Northstar.
Because the missing files might not be the beginning of the story.
They might be the latest chapter in a much older one.
PART 14 — The Secret Inside Project Lantern
Elliot Hayes arrived at Caldwell Industries on Tuesday morning carrying a battered leather briefcase.
He had received Marcus's message the previous evening, along with the archived reference to Project Lantern. At first, Elliot had assumed the record was another example of the company's habit of preserving documents without understanding their significance. But when he read the project number, he recognized it immediately.
He had not seen that number in years.
Richard Caldwell met him in the same conference room where they had reviewed the original Aegis Grid failures.
"I thought Project Lantern had been closed permanently," Caldwell said.
"It was closed," Elliot replied. "That doesn't mean the work was worthless."
He placed the briefcase on the table and removed a stack of notebooks, several printed diagrams, and an old external storage device.
Marcus leaned forward.
"What was Project Lantern designed to do?"
"Monitor small electrical systems without requiring expensive infrastructure," Elliot explained. "The original idea was to create a device that could help schools, community centers, and small businesses understand their energy consumption. We wanted the equipment to be affordable enough that a building with limited resources could still use it."
Marcus glanced at Olivia's project notes.
The similarities were immediately apparent.
Both projects aimed to make energy monitoring accessible. Both used inexpensive sensors and software to identify unusual patterns. Both relied on comparing measurements over time rather than requiring costly equipment at every point in the building.
"Then ClearCurrent could be similar to Project Lantern without anyone stealing anything," Marcus said.
"Correct," Elliot replied. "The general concept isn't proof of copying. People can independently develop similar solutions when they're trying to solve the same problem."
Caldwell looked at the notebooks.
"Why did we discontinue Lantern?"
Elliot opened the first notebook to a page filled with handwritten calculations.
"The original prototype worked, but it had two weaknesses. Its measurements became unreliable when the sensors were installed in different environments, and the software required too much manual calibration. We couldn't solve both problems within the project's budget."
"Why wasn't the work continued?"
"Because the company wanted to focus on larger commercial systems. The project was considered too small to justify further investment."
Caldwell remembered the decision. At the time, the company had been pursuing contracts with major property developers. A low-cost device for community buildings seemed unlikely to generate enough revenue.
He had approved the closure without asking whether the technology might have value beyond its immediate commercial prospects.
"I should have considered a different funding model," he admitted.
Elliot did not respond immediately.