“Very well,” Ruhlin said. “Why don’t we allow the jury to take the afternoon break while I review your documents.”
I had expected one of the Masons to object to the blanket approval I was asking for, but they were silent at the defense table.
Kitchens stepped down, and as the jurors filed back into the assembly room, I took one set of copies of the documents to the clerk for the judge to peruse and another set to the defense table.
“I’m sure you already have these, boys,” I said. “But just in case.”
I started to put the documents down in front of Marcus. He held his hand up as if to push them away.
“Don’t bother,” he said. “You can put on your PowerPoint, Haller. The jurors won’t remember one bit of it when I get through with your so-called last guardrail.”
I acted as though it was basic trash-talking. But something about the sarcasm in Marcus’s voice got to me. After checking with Lorna to make sure the PowerPoint was teed up and ready, I went through the gate and out of the courtroom to the hallway to look for Naomi Kitchens. I found her sitting on a bench outside the courtroom with her daughter.
“Lily, do you mind if I talk to your mother alone for a few minutes?” I asked.
Lily looked at her mom, who nodded that it was okay. She got up and went through the double doors back into the courtroom. I took her place on the bench.
“The Mason boys don’t seem all that worried about your memos and emails,” I said.
“Is that good or bad?” Kitchens asked.
“It could be either, but I’m worried they have something.”
“Like what?”
“Something on you, Naomi. So, I’ve asked you this before, but tell me now if there’s anything you haven’t told me that they might use against you to damage your credibility.”
Kitchens shook her head.
“There’s nothing,” she said. “You know it all now.”
“You said in there that you had nothing to do with Quentin Holgard’s crimes,” I said. “That has got to hold up, Naomi. Or we’re fucked.”
“First of all, I told you last night and today that I didn’t want to testify. You made me.”
“And second?”
“It’s the truth. I don’t lie.”
I studied her face, looking for any crack in the resolve and defiance she was showing. I saw no tremor of doubt. She didn’t blink.
“Okay, then,” I said. “I hope we’re good. I’m going to try to run out the clock with you.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“I’m going to keep you on the witness stand until we break for the day. That way, if they have something we don’t know about, the Masons won’t get to use it until tomorrow. You good with that?”
“I’m good. But they don’t have anything unless they make something up.”
“Well, I guess we’re going to find out.”
34
Judge Ruhlin winnowed my exhibits from twelve to four, saying they were repetitive and that the two memos and two emails she chose would suffice to make the points intended by the plaintiffs. Based on her previous ruling during the discovery hearing, I had expected this. Judges like to play King Solomon and split the baby when they can. Though I protested and acted as though my case was severely damaged by the ruling, I was happy to get the four exhibits accepted. After the jury was brought back into the courtroom, I used Naomi to introduce the exhibits and read sections as they were put on the screen. I wanted the jury to hear her words in her voice.
There was a unifying theme to the four exhibits and I went through them in chronological order. The first was a memo Kitchens had sent to the top managers of Project Clair.
“You were new to the project when you sent this message, correct?” I asked.
“I had been there seven weeks at that point,” Kitchens said.
“And who was this message addressed to?”
“Jerry Matthews.”
“Who is Jerry Matthews?”
“He was the boss, the overall manager of Project Clair.”
“Did he hire you?”
“No, he did not. I was hired through the HR department.”
“And assigned to Project Clair.”
“Correct.”
“Can you read the paragraph that is highlighted on the printout of the memo?”
“Yes. It says, ‘I feel I am up to speed now on Project Clair, and you asked me to put the concerns I mentioned in our meeting into a memo. My chief concerns are about the biases I believe are being embedded in the training program. Our coders are all male. This creates a bias when training a female AI companion. Perhaps more important, it is my understanding that this model is designed and intended to have a thirteen-plus rating. Frankly, this seems inappropriate. Has the horse left the barn or is this a decision we can reconsider?’”
As Kitchens finished reading the section, Lorna put the full memo on the screen.
“Thank you, Naomi,” I said. “Did you get a response to this memo?”
“Not in written form,” Kitchens said. “Jerry took me to the campus cafeteria for a coffee and we talked. That was his response.”
“Did he say he would act on your concerns?”
“He told me—”
Marcus Mason objected, arguing that anything Kitchens claimed Matthews told her was excluded under hearsay rules. The judge agreed and I had to find another path to the answer I wanted.
“Okay, Naomi,” I said. “Your memo led to a meeting with the boss in the cafeteria. After that meeting, were changes made to the training of Clair, the AI companion that was going to be offered to thirteen-year-old children?”
“No,” Kitchens said. “No changes were made.”
And so it went. We brought up each memo and email, displaying to the jury what I believed was a solid case that Tidalwaiv had run roughshod over the many warnings made by the ethicist assigned to Project Clair. I ended on the email Kitchens had sent to Jerry Matthews on the day she was terminated.
“Can you read what you wrote to Mr. Matthews after learning your employment at Tidalwaiv had been terminated?” I asked.
“Yes,” Kitchens said. “I wrote, ‘Jerry, one last time, I can’t stress enough the liability the company will encounter should Clair say the wrong thing or encourage the wrong behavior or action by a child user. I am glad I won’t be part of the company when that happens.’”
I looked down at my legal pad for a long moment, hoping the fired ethicist’s final words would leave a deep impact on the jury.
“‘Encourage the wrong behavior or action by a child user,’” I repeated. “Naomi, did you ever in your wildest dreams think that the wrong action would be a murder—”
“Objection!” Marcus Mason exclaimed.
“Committed by a child user?” I finished.
“Mr. Haller, you know better,” the judge said. “The jury will disregard the question.”
“Sorry, Your Honor,” I said. “Could I have a moment? I am almost finished with Dr. Kitchens’s testimony.”
“Be quick,” Ruhlin said.
I turned and glanced back at the courtroom clock. It was 4:05 and I believed I had timed things well. My finish would take us to the final bell.
“Naomi, did you quit your job at Tidalwaiv?” I asked.
“No, I was terminated,” Kitchens said.
“Terminated. Were you given a reason?”
“I was called into Mr. Matthews’s office and told I was fired for actions detrimental to the project.”
“Did you ask for a fuller explanation?”
“I did but was not given one. But I had been warned previously that my memos and concerns about the project were viewed as harmful to the project.”