Chapter 4 - The Price of a Genius
Three days later, Jaylen Tate entered an engineering laboratory for the first time.
He stopped at the doorway.
Rows of testing equipment stretched beneath bright lights. Battery modules sat inside reinforced chambers. Oscilloscopes glowed along one wall.
Jaylen whispered, “Whoa.”
Priya smiled.
“Better than your shed?”
Jaylen considered it.
“My shed has snacks.”
Wendell laughed.
Hayes Renewables had arranged temporary testing at its regional facility in Birmingham so Teresa wouldn't need to leave Alabama.
Jaylen's design had been reconstructed using professional components.
Nobody expected the first prototype to work.
It did.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
The adaptive controller improved usable capacity from mixed-condition cells far beyond the team's expectations.
Priya ran the test twice.
Then three times.
By midnight, she was staring at the results.
“This changes things.”
Wendell stood beside her.
“How much?”
“If we can validate safety and scalability? A lot.”
Jaylen had fallen asleep in a chair.
His head rested against Teresa's shoulder.
Wendell looked at him.
“Then we do it correctly.”
The following morning, everything exploded.
A technology website published a story accusing Hayes Renewables of exploiting a poor Alabama teenager.
The headline spread within hours.
According to an unnamed executive source, Wendell Hayes had discovered a child's invention and intended to take ownership of it to rescue his failing company.
It was almost the exact opposite of what had happened.
But it was believable.
And belief traveled faster than evidence.
Reporters appeared outside the Tate house.
Teresa panicked.
Jaylen refused to leave his room.
Hayes Renewables' stock fell again.
The board demanded Wendell return to New York.
He did.
For the first time in years, he entered his own headquarters unsure whether he would leave as CEO.
Martin Voss sat at the conference table.
Calm.
Concerned.
Innocent.
Wendell knew immediately.
“You leaked it.”
Martin frowned.
“That's a serious accusation.”
“You offered Jaylen fifty thousand dollars without authorization.”
“I attempted to protect company interests.”
“You tried to steal his work.”
Several directors exchanged glances.
Martin leaned back.
“Where is your evidence?”
Wendell had none.
But he had something better.
“The patent filing.”
Martin's face changed.
Wendell placed copies on the table.
“The provisional application names Jaylen Tate as inventor. His intellectual property is controlled by an independent trust. Hayes Renewables owns none of it.”
Silence.
One director adjusted her glasses.
“You did this before the article?”
“Two days before.”
Martin's expression tightened.
Wendell continued.
“And every test performed by our engineers was conducted under an agreement preserving Jaylen's ownership.”
The narrative collapsed in minutes.
But Wendell wasn't finished.
“We're commissioning an independent valuation before discussing licensing.”
A director asked, “And if it's worth tens of millions?”
“Then we pay what it's worth.”
Martin slammed his pen down.
“This company is not a charity.”
Wendell looked at him.
“No. It's a business. Which means we pay people for things we use.”
The board meeting lasted four hours.
Martin survived.
Barely.
But something had fractured.
Afterward, Wendell flew back to Alabama.
He found Jaylen sitting inside the shed.
“Am I ruining your company?” the boy asked.
“No.”
“The news says—”
“The news doesn't know you.”
Jaylen stared at a circuit board.
“Kids at school found the articles.”
Wendell sat beside him.
“What happened?”
“They called me Two-Dollar Tesla.”
Wendell tried not to smile.
Jaylen looked at him.
“It's not funny.”
“No.”
A pause.
“Maybe a little.”
Jaylen finally smiled.
Then his expression became serious.
“Mr. Hayes?”
“Wendell.”
“My mom's going to lose the house.”
Wendell stopped.
“What?”
Jaylen handed him the final notice.
It wasn't a medical bill.
It was a foreclosure notice.
Teresa had fallen behind after reducing her work hours because of illness.
The auction was scheduled in nineteen days.
“I can fix that,” Wendell said.
Jaylen immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“Jaylen—”
“No money.”
Wendell sighed.
“You are incredibly difficult.”
“Mom says that too.”
Wendell thought for a moment.
“Then earn it.”
“How?”
“Your invention needs testing. Consultants get paid.”
“I'm thirteen.”
“Then your trust gets paid.”
Jaylen narrowed his eyes.
“Is that legal?”
Wendell smiled.
“You're starting to sound like my board.”
An independent attorney structured the arrangement.
Jaylen would receive compensation for documented technical consultation, held in trust with appropriate protections.
It was enough to stop the foreclosure.
Teresa cried when she learned.
Not because Wendell had saved them.
Because Jaylen had.
“You did this,” she told her son.
Jaylen shook his head.
“My machine did.”
“No.”
She touched his face.
“You did.”
For one evening, everything felt possible.
Then Priya called.
Her voice was urgent.
“Wendell, get to the lab.”
“What happened?”
“Prototype Four.”
“Did it fail?”
“No.”
“That sounds good.”
“It would be.”
A pause.
“If Prototype Four were still here.”
Wendell stood.
“What do you mean?”
“Someone removed it.”
“Who?”
“We're checking security.”
“Was anything else taken?”
“Only Jaylen's controller.”
Wendell felt cold.
Then Priya added the detail that changed everything.
“The access log shows executive authorization.”
Wendell already knew whose name they would find.
But when the security team pulled the record, it wasn't Martin Voss.
The authorization belonged to Wendell Hayes himself.
Someone had just stolen Jaylen's invention.
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And they had made it look as though Wendell ordered the theft.
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