Sunday - The Prior Art Search
Six AM. Sunday morning.
Alexander's phone screamed.
Not buzzed. Not chimed. Screamed—an alarm that sounded like stone grinding against stone, ancient and terrible and absolutely wrong for a modern smartphone.
He grabbed it from the floor beside his makeshift bed. The screen glowed purple, text writing itself in real-time like an invisible hand was typing:
Alexander's ears shot upright. Then flattened completely against his skull.
"No. No no no—"
On the bed four feet away, Athelia stirred. "Alexander? What's wrong? Your ears—"
She sat up, squinting in the dim light. Saw his expression. "What happened?"
He turned the phone toward her wordlessly.
Athelia read. Her face went pale. "Office Action. That's... that's bad, right?"
"It's the examiner's response to your application." Alexander's voice was tight. "Issac Wavelander just officially rejected your patent on four separate legal grounds. We have seventy-two hours to respond or the application is abandoned."
"Abandoned means...?"
"The bond dissolves. I go back to my realm. You forget all of this. The barrier continues weakening until it collapses." His ears drooped. "We lose."
The door burst open. Casey stood there in pajamas, hair wild, holding her phone. "Why is MY phone screaming in LATIN?!"
"That's not Latin, it's—" Alexander stopped. "Wait. Malacar sent you a notification?"
"SOMETHING did! It woke me up with GREGORIAN CHANTING and then displayed a countdown timer!" She shoved her phone at them. The screen showed: 71:59:42... 71:59:41... 71:59:40...
"The response deadline," Athelia said. "He's making sure we all know."
Alexander scrolled through his phone. "There's more. The detailed rejections. Four separate grounds."
He opened the first attachment:
Athelia read it twice. Her hand started moving across her notebook without conscious thought:
"I'm writing definitions I don't remember learning," Athelia whispered.
Alexander looked at her notes. "The protocols are teaching you. You're absorbing the law through the bond."
She stared at what she'd written. "So Issac is saying I haven't proven my invention does something specific, substantial, and credible."
"Right. He's challenging whether Guardian Queen examination is even a patentable utility."
"Can we overcome that?"
"If we can show concrete examples of what you'll examine, how it benefits the public, and prove it actually works." Alexander scrolled to the next rejection. "But that's just § 101. Look at § 102."
"Wait." Athelia pointed at the screen. "What's the 'All Elements' rule?"
She read the § 102 notice again. Her hand moved—drawing automatically:
She stared at what she'd drawn. "I didn't learn this. The protocols just... gave it to me."
Alexander leaned over, reading her notes. His ears perked up. "That's exactly right. The All Elements rule—single reference must show everything."
"So Issac is saying the Original Guardian Queen's patent shows ALL the elements of MY patent. Which means mine isn't new."
"Right. To overcome this, we need to find the Original Queen's actual patent and prove she DIDN'T have all your elements. That something in your claims is NEW—something she didn't have."
"Like what?"
Alexander's hand moved to his ears unconsciously. "Like the bond. Like having an attorney. Like—" He stopped. "We need to see her original patent. Compare it to yours element by element."
Casey had been reading over their shoulders. "Where would a three-hundred-year-old magical patent BE?"
"The archives," Alexander said. "At Walnut Canyon. The examination center keeps records of all filed patents."
"The place that almost killed Athelia on Thursday."
"Yes."
"Of course it is." Casey looked at the countdown timer on her phone. 71:47:33. "When do we leave?"
"Now," Athelia said. "But show me the other rejections first. I need to understand what we're fighting."
Alexander scrolled to § 103:
"Okay, stop." Athelia held up her hand. Her other hand was already moving across the page:
"I'm doing it again." Athelia stared at her handwriting. "The protocols are writing the test through me."
Alexander read over her shoulder, ears perked. "Graham v. John Deere. Four-factor test. That's exactly right."
She read what she'd written. "So Issac is saying that even though my invention is different from the original Queen, those differences are OBVIOUS. Any normal queen would think of them."
"Right. And he's pointing out that we haven't provided any secondary considerations—no proof that it took a long time, or that others failed, or that it was unexpectedly successful."
"But we DON'T have that evidence. Do we?"
Alexander's ears flattened. "That's what we need to find at Walnut Canyon. If there are records of failed attempts to replace the original Queen—people who tried and couldn't make it work—that's 'failure of others.' If it's been 250 years since she disappeared, that's 'long-felt need.' If the Council said it wouldn't work and you proved them wrong, that's 'skepticism of experts.'"
"The archives would have that?"
"If anywhere does."
Athelia looked at the last rejection. "And § 112?"
Athelia read the § 112(a) rejection. Her hand moved again:
"Issac is saying my patent doesn't teach how to BE a Guardian Queen."
Alexander nodded. "The protocols are downloading but you can't articulate them. Not yet."
Athelia looked at the countdown timer. 71:38:12.
Four rejections. Seventy-one hours. And they needed to find a three-hundred-year-old patent in magical cliff dwellings to prove any of it.
"We need to go," she said. "Now."
MONDAY MORNING - 8:30 AM
Alexander stood in Athelia's bedroom, exhausted. Not just from the sleepless night—from Sunday's research marathon that had yielded fragments, hints, but nothing complete. His ears tracked every sound. Neighbors arguing. Traffic. Birds outside the window.
Athelia emerged from the bathroom, dark circles under her eyes. "I found one reference to a 'Guardian examination center' in a 1782 colonial land dispute. ONE. In twelve hours of searching."
"Better than what I found." Alexander's ears drooped. "Which was nothing."
Casey knocked and entered. "You're coming to class, right? Because you live here now and I'm not explaining to professors why the viral wolf attorney ISN'T attending."
"I—" Alexander's ears flattened. "People are going to stare. Film me. We're already at 15 million views."
"So?"
"So I can't think when everyone is watching my ears move!"
Casey considered this. Then walked to her closet. Returned with an oversized black hoodie. "Here. Pull the hood up. Covers the ears. Problem solved."
Alexander's ears perked up with hope.
He pulled on the hoodie. Drew the hood up carefully over his ears. They were hidden—pressed flat against his skull under the fabric, but not visible.
Relief flooded through him. "Thank you. This is—"
His phone buzzed.
Then BLARED.
An alarm he'd never heard before. Loud. Insistent. Ancient-sounding.
MALACAR'S VOICE filled the small bedroom—not from the phone, but from everywhere at once:
Alexander froze.
"What?" Athelia stood in the doorway, toothbrush in hand. "What is he talking about?"
"The ears," Alexander said weakly. "I'm hiding the ears."
"Are you KIDDING ME?!" Casey shrieked. "The magic database is regulating FASHION CHOICES?!"
"It's not fashion," Alexander said miserably, pulling the hood down. His ears sprang up, fully visible again. "It's evidence. The ears prove the bond exists. Prove the attorney-client relationship is real. Hiding them would be... lying to the Patent Office."
The voice cut off.
Silence.
Casey looked at Alexander. At his ears, now perked forward in misery. "So. Plan B?"
"There is no Plan B," Alexander said. "I have to go to class with visible ears, get filmed again, trend on TikTok again, and hope the federal government doesn't arrest me before we finish responding to Issac's objections."
"Cool," Casey said flatly. "Cool cool cool. Just another Monday."
They walked across campus in silence. Early November cold bit through Athelia's jacket. Alexander's ears swiveled constantly—tracking students, cars, distant conversations. His shoulders were tense.
"You okay?" Athelia asked quietly.
"No." His ears flattened. "But we don't have a choice."
They reached the law building twenty minutes early. The classroom was empty except for a few students scattered in back rows, laptops open, cramming.
Athelia chose seats near the middle. Not front row—too exposed. Not back—too obvious they were hiding. Middle felt... safer.
Alexander sat. His ears immediately swiveled toward the door. Tracking every person who entered.
Casey pulled out her phone. "Fifteen point two million views. Trending number seven on TikTok. #WolfCounselor is now officially mainstream."
"Fantastic," Alexander muttered.
More students filtered in. One glanced at Alexander. Did a double-take. Pulled out their phone.
Then another. And another.
By the time Mendez walked in at 9:00 AM, half the class was filming.
***
Mendez looked up from his desk. Saw Alexander. Saw the ears. His expression didn't change. "Ms. Winters. Mr. Alexander. I trust you've made progress on the assignment?"
"Working on it, Professor," Athelia said.
"Due Wednesday. No extensions." His gaze moved to Alexander's ears. Lingered there. "Interesting that you're still... manifesting."
Alexander's ears flattened.
"Take your seats."
As they sat, someone whispered: "Dude, I thought the ears were prosthetics..."
"They're MOVING. Look—they just swiveled toward us."
"#WolfCounselor round two, baby!"
Alexander wanted to die.
Mendez began lecturing about federal preemption and state sovereignty. Athelia opened her laptop to take notes.
She started typing normally:
Federal preemption occurs when federal law supersedes state law under the Supremacy Clause...
Then her fingers slipped. Binary appeared on screen:
Athelia stared at it. And then—without thinking, without knowing HOW—she read it.
Her hand wrote beneath the binary:
She blinked. She didn't KNOW that. Didn't study it. But her hand wrote it anyway.
And the binary... she could READ it now. Like it was plain English. Like it was always readable and she just needed to look properly.
She kept typing. Patent law. Then:
Her handwriting was changing. Some sentences in her normal script. Others in flowing, elegant handwriting she'd never used. Older. More formal.
Casey leaned over, saw the screen. Went pale. Whispered: "Uh. Athelia?"
Athelia didn't hear her. She was typing faster now. Binary and translation flowing together:
She didn't study that case. Never read it. But she knows it now. Completely. Like the knowledge downloaded directly into her brain and the binary was just the installation file.
Alexander's ears perk forward. He can FEEL it through the bond. The protocols accelerating. Integrating. She's not just downloading anymore—she's PARSING. Understanding. Becoming.
Another line appears:
Her hand keeps moving. Page after page. Patent law mixed with Old Law mixed with binary code. All flowing together like they're the same language.
A student behind her leans forward. Sees her screen. "Dude, is she writing in CODE?"
Another student pulls out their phone. Films over her shoulder.
Casey hisses: "Athelia. People are watching."
Athelia doesn't respond. Her eyes are unfocused. Fingers moving across keyboard like she's transcribing something only she can hear.
More binary:
She's writing the RESPONSE. The Office Action response. Using federal jurisdiction framework to structure patent law arguments. The homework assignment and the prosecution response merging into a single document.
And she understands ALL of it now.
Alexander reaches across the aisle. Touches her hand.
The bond flares.
Athelia gasps. Blinks. The unfocused look clears. She stares at her screen.
Twelve pages. She's written twelve pages in twenty minutes. Half in English. Half in binary. All of it translated. All of it PERFECT.
"What—" Her voice shakes. "What did I just write?"
Alexander's ears flatten. "The response. You're writing Issac's response. And you're parsing the binary now. You can read it."
"I can READ it," she whispers. "It's not code anymore. It's just... words. Instructions. Legal frameworks. I can SEE it."
Casey grabs her laptop. Slams it shut. "We're leaving. Now."
"Ms. Morgan?" Mendez calls from the front. "Class isn't over."
"Emergency. Sorry Professor. We'll—" Casey doesn't finish. Just grabs Athelia's arm and hauls her up.
Alexander follows, ears tracking every phone filming their exit.
As they leave, someone whispers: "Did you see what she was typing? That looked like MATRIX shit..."
Another voice: "#WolfCounselor just got an upgrade. #BinaryGirl trending in 3... 2..."
***
Hallway. Empty study room. Casey locks the door.
"Okay. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?"
Athelia is shaking. "I could read it. The binary. It wasn't code. It was just... knowledge. Like someone uploaded an entire legal database directly into my brain and I can ACCESS it now."
"The downloads are accelerating," Alexander says quietly. "You're integrating. Becoming—"
"The Guardian Queen," Athelia finishes. Her voice breaks. "I'm becoming someone else. Something else. And I can't STOP it."
Alexander's ears droop. "The examination activated the protocols. They're teaching you. Preparing you. By the time we finish the response to Issac's objections, you'll probably have full access to all Guardian Queen knowledge."
"And then what? Do I stop being ME?"
Silence.
Because none of them know the answer.
Alexander's phone buzzes. Malacar:
Athelia reads over his shoulder. "Forty-eight to seventy-two hours. That's—that's the response deadline."
"Not a coincidence," Alexander says. "Issac timed it perfectly. By the time we respond, you'll have full access to the protocols. You'll KNOW everything you need to know to defend your application."
"But I won't be ME anymore."
"You'll be you," Alexander says firmly. "With added knowledge. Like... finishing law school. You don't stop being yourself when you learn new things."
"This isn't law school! This is MAGIC LOBOTOMY!"
His ears flatten completely. Because she's not wrong.
Casey is pacing. "Okay. New plan. We need to finish this response FAST. Before she fully integrates. Before she loses herself. What do we need?"
"The original Queen's documentation," Alexander says. "We need to go to Walnut Canyon. Find the archives. Compare her protocols to Athelia's. Prove what's new. What's different."
"When?"
"Now. This afternoon. We're out of time."
Athelia looks at her laptop. At the twelve pages of binary and patent law she wrote without thinking. At the handwriting that isn't quite hers anymore.
"Let's go," she says. "Before I forget who I am."
***
Forty-five minutes later, they were in Casey's car heading south on Highway 89.
Athelia sat in passenger seat, laptop balanced on her knees. She'd opened a new document—started typing notes from Alexander's explanations:
§ 101 - Three types of utility required: specific, substantial, credible
§ 102 - All Elements rule: single reference must show ALL claimed elements
§ 103 - Graham factors: prior art + differences + ordinary skill + secondary considerations
§ 112 - Enablement: teach PHOSITA how to make/use invention
Her hands slipped. Binary appeared on screen:
Athelia stared at it. Then—without knowing how—she READ it.
Her hand wrote beneath:
"I can read it," she whispered.
In the back seat, Alexander's ears perked up. "The binary?"
"It's not code anymore. It's just... words. Like English but in a different alphabet." She looked at her hand. "And I'm writing definitions I don't remember learning."
Casey glanced over, eyes still on the road. "Is that good or bad?"
"I don't know," Athelia said. "But it's happening faster."
Alexander leaned forward between the front seats. "Try something. Write 'All Elements rule' and see what happens."
Athelia typed: All Elements rule
Her hands slipped again. Binary flowed:
And she translated automatically:
Athelia stared at what she'd written. "I didn't study that. I didn't KNOW that detail about multiple references."
"But you know it now," Alexander said quietly. "The protocols are teaching you. Faster than I expected."
Walnut Canyon appeared ahead. The brown sign for the national monument. Sunday morning—few cars in the parking lot.
Casey parked. Looked at the countdown on her phone. 70:52:08. "How long will you be?"
"Time moves differently across the barrier," Alexander said. "Could be an hour our time, twenty minutes here. Or vice versa."
"So I just... wait?"
"If we're not back by noon, call everyone. FBI. Homeland Security. Campus security. I don't care if Malacar blocks it."
"Comforting." Casey handed Athelia her phone. "Take this. If you CAN call, do it."
They climbed out. November air cold and sharp. Clear blue sky. Tourists were just starting to arrive—families, hikers, a group of geology students with clipboards.
Alexander's ears swiveled, tracking everything. The bond pulled him forward. Toward the canyon. Toward the barrier.
"Last time I was here," Athelia said, staring down the paved trail, "I almost died."
"Last time you were alone. This time I'm with you." Alexander started walking. "Stay close. Don't fight the barrier when we cross. Let it take you."
They walked down into the canyon. Past the visitor center. Down stone steps worn smooth by a million feet. The cliff dwellings appeared—ancient alcoves carved into limestone walls eight hundred years ago by people who understood this place had power.
Tourists wandered. Took photos. Read interpretive signs about the Sinagua people.
None of them saw the shimmer.
But Athelia saw it now. Between one alcove and the next—a ripple in the air like heat rising from pavement. The barrier between jurisdictions.
"There." She pointed.
Alexander nodded. "When we cross, reality will invert. Like drowning. Your wolf will panic—"
"I don't have a wolf."
"The bond gives you access to mine. You'll feel it." His ears flattened. "Don't fight. Just let it happen."
They approached the shimmer. Alexander reached out—touched it with one hand.
The barrier recognized him. Pulsed warm under his palm. Parted like water around a stone.
He looked back. "Ready?"
Athelia took his hand. "No. But let's go anyway."
They stepped through.
The world inverted.
Everything Athelia remembered from Thursday came flooding back—the sensation of drowning, being crushed and stretched simultaneously, dimensions folding into impossible shapes her mind couldn't process. Her lungs screamed for air that didn't exist. Her vision went white then black then colors that had no names.
And something inside her SURGED. Not her. Something else. Wolf instinct borrowed from Alexander through the bond—pure animal panic at the WRONGNESS of this space.
Don't fight it, Alexander's voice in her head. Not spoken. Bond-sent. Let the barrier carry you.
Athelia stopped fighting.
The pressure built. Built. BUILT—
—and released.
Her feet hit solid ground. Air rushed into her lungs. Different air—heavier, magic-saturated, tasting of stone and time and ancient purpose.
She opened her eyes.
Same cliff dwellings. Same limestone alcoves. But the walls GLOWED.
Text carved into limestone. Runes. Diagrams. Legal frameworks in languages that shouldn't exist but Athelia could now READ:
"These are patent claims," Athelia breathed. "Carved into the WALLS. The entire examination center is a PATENT."
Alexander's ears swiveled, reading different sections. "The barrier itself. The original Guardian Queen didn't just maintain the system—she INVENTED it. Filed the foundational patent."
He pointed deeper into the alcove. "The archives are this way. Follow me."
They walked past more carved claims. Past chambers that had clearly been examination rooms—stone benches, carved sigils, spaces designed for applicants to stand while being evaluated. Everything covered in legal text describing procedures, requirements, jurisdictional boundaries.
It was like walking through a three-dimensional patent specification.
Finally, the passage opened into a circular chamber. Stone shelves carved into walls floor to ceiling. And on those shelves: BOOKS. Scrolls. Tablets. Centuries of documentation preserved by the same barrier magic that kept this place hidden.
In the center of the chamber: a stone pedestal. And resting on it: a single large tome, leather-bound, ancient, with a golden sigil on the cover that pulsed faintly.
Athelia approached it slowly. "Is that...?"
"The original patent," Alexander said. "The Guardian Queen's application."
She reached out. Touched the cover.
The book opened by itself.
Pages flipped rapidly—decades blurring past in seconds. Then stopped. Settled on a specific section as if the book itself knew what they needed:
Athelia pulled out her phone. Started photographing pages. "Solo operation. No attorney. No bond. Immediate decisions. No appeals."
Alexander leaned over her shoulder, ears forward, reading intently. "That's completely different from your application. Your application REQUIRES the bond. Requires me."
"Keep reading. There's more."
She flipped to the claims section:
Athelia stared at Claim 3. Read it aloud: "The system of Claim 1, wherein said Guardian Queen requires no attorney or bonded partner."
She looked at Alexander. "She explicitly claimed NO attorney. NO bond."
His ears shot upright. "That's the difference. That's what makes your application novel."
"Explain. Use small words. I'm still learning."
Alexander pulled out his own phone, opened a notes app, started typing:
ORIGINAL QUEEN'S CLAIM 1 ELEMENTS:
(a) Guardian Queen with INHERENT knowledge from birth ✓
(b) Direct barrier connection, NO INTERMEDIARY ✓
(c) SOLO examination authority ✓
(d) INSTANT decisions based on instincts ✓
YOUR CLAIM 1 ELEMENTS (from your application):
(a) Guardian Queen with AMNESIA ✗ (different!)
(b) Wolf King ATTORNEY bonded to Queen ✗ (NEW element!)
(c) Bond ENABLES protocol transfer ✗ (NEW element!)
(d) Bond manifests PHYSICALLY ✗ (NEW element!)
(e) Digital integration, viral documentation ✗ (NEW element!)
"See?" Alexander showed her the phone. "For the All Elements rule, Issac has to show that the Original Queen's patent discloses EVERY element of YOUR patent. But look—she doesn't have elements (b), (c), (d), or (e). She explicitly EXCLUDES them in her Claim 3."
"So her patent doesn't anticipate mine because it's missing elements."
"Exactly! That's how we overcome the § 102 rejection." His ears were perked up fully now, excited. "We can write: 'Examiner's rejection under All Elements rule fails because prior art reference explicitly excludes attorney bond element. See OGQ Claim 3: requires NO attorney. Applicant's invention claims the OPPOSITE: bond-dependent operation. Prior art lacks elements (b), (c), (d), (e) of applicant's Claim 1. Therefore NOT anticipated.'"
Athelia was grinning now. "We can beat § 102."
"Yes. But § 103 is harder. Just because it's NOVEL doesn't mean it's NON-OBVIOUS. We need secondary considerations."
"The evidence that it took a long time, people failed, it was unexpected..."
"Right. Keep looking. There has to be something about what happened AFTER she disappeared."
Athelia flipped through more pages. Found a section in different handwriting—added much later, by different hands:
The list continued. Page after page. Candidate after candidate. Each marked FAILED. Each with detailed reasons.
Athelia photographed every page, her hands shaking slightly.
Alexander read over her shoulder, ears swiveling as he scanned entries:
"Candidate 12, 1889: Failed. Protocols corrupted during download. Candidate developed seizures, permanent memory damage."
"Candidate 23, 1934: Failed. Integration reached 47% then reversed. Candidate lost all memory of attempt."
"Candidate 31, 1967: Failed. Attempted to use technological assistance. Protocols rejected artificial interface. Integration 0%."
Finally, the last entry:
Athelia finished photographing. Looked at Alexander. "Forty-seven attempts. Two hundred forty-seven years. Every single one failed because of amnesia."
"And you SUCCEEDED." Alexander's voice was quiet. Intense. "You're Candidate 48. And you succeeded where forty-seven others failed. Because of the BOND."
"That's secondary considerations."
"That's ALL the secondary considerations." He started ticking off on his fingers:
"LONG-FELT NEED: Two hundred forty-seven years without a solution. That's long-felt."
"FAILURE OF OTHERS: Forty-seven documented attempts by qualified candidates. All failed. That's extensive failure."
"UNEXPECTED RESULTS: The bond enabled protocol transfer DESPITE amnesia. Nobody predicted that would work. That's unexpected."
"SKEPTICISM OF EXPERTS: The Archive Division declared it UNSOLVED in 2020. The Council voted against you. Experts said amnesia was a fatal flaw. You proved them wrong."
Athelia was writing in the air again—binary flowing from her fingers in glowing gold streams:
She translated automatically: "Graham factor four. Secondary considerations dispositive. Evidence overcomes prima facie obviousness."
She looked at Alexander. "We can beat § 103."
"Yes. With this evidence, yes."
"And § 112 enablement?"
Alexander thought for a moment. "The bond IS the enablement. The bond is the mechanism that enables protocol transfer. We can argue: 'Specification discloses bond formation under 37 CFR § 11.106. Bond enables protocol download despite amnesia barriers. PHOSITA—defined as Wolf King attorney with examination knowledge—can practice invention through bond-enabled protocol transfer. Enablement proven by successful examination completion.'"
Athelia grinned. "You sound like a patent attorney."
"I AM a patent attorney." His ears perked up. "Apparently."
They spent another thirty minutes photographing everything. Every page of the Original Queen's patent. Every failed candidate entry. The Archive Division's conclusion. The signatures of Marcus and Erikson as witnesses.
All of it evidence. All of it ammunition for their response.
Finally, Athelia found one more section. Hidden at the very back of the tome. A single page in the Original Queen's own hand:
Athelia's hands were shaking as she photographed it.
"She knew," Athelia whispered. "She knew the solo model would consume her. And she couldn't stop it because she had no bond. No partner. No way to stay human."
Alexander's hand found hers. Squeezed gently. "You won't lose yourself. Because you have the bond. Because you have me."
"The bond is what makes it work."
"The bond IS the invention."
They stood in the archive, surrounded by centuries of failed attempts, holding the evidence that would save Athelia's application.
And prove they'd solved a three-hundred-year-old problem.
"We should go," Alexander said. "Casey's waiting. And we have sixty-eight hours to write this response."
They walked back through the examination center. Past carved claims. Past glowing runes. Toward the shimmer that marked the barrier.
Before stepping through, Athelia looked back at the archive chamber one last time.
"Thank you," she whispered. To the Original Queen. To the forty-seven failed candidates. To everyone who'd tried and taught them what NOT to do.
Then they crossed.
Reality inverted. Compressed. Released.
Human world. Normal air. Tourists taking photos.
Casey rushed over. "You're BACK! You've been gone two and a half HOURS!"
Alexander checked his phone. "Twenty-seven minutes for us. Time dilation."
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT TIME DILATION! You disappeared into MAGIC!"
"We found everything," Athelia said, holding up her phone with hundreds of photographs. "The Original Queen's patent. Forty-seven failed candidates. Evidence for every secondary consideration. Everything we need to overcome all four rejections."
Casey looked at the countdown timer. 68:32:15.
"Then let's go. You have a response to write."
"Not yet."
They all turned. Severen stood near Casey's car, leaning against the driver's door like he'd been there all along. Sapphire eyes fixed on Athelia's phone.
"You found it," he said. Not a question.
"The Original Queen's patent," Alexander confirmed. "All the failed candidates. The Archive Division's conclusion. Everything."
"Show me."
Athelia pulled up the photographs. Scrolled through them. The claims. The addendum. The inventor's final note.
Severen studied each image carefully. His expression never changed, but his eyes grew brighter with each page.
"Claim 3," he murmured. "'Requires no attorney or bonded partner.' She explicitly excluded the very element that makes your invention work."
"That's the § 102 kill shot," Alexander said.
"And the forty-seven failures?" Severen looked up. "All documented? Dates, reasons, signatures?"
"Every one. From 1774 to 2019. All failed because of amnesia. All attempted solo operation." Athelia's voice was stronger now. "We succeeded because of the bond. That's the secondary consideration evidence."
Severen was quiet for a long moment. Then: "You have what you need. § 102 fails on All Elements rule. § 103 falls to secondary considerations. § 101 and § 112 are straightforward once you establish the bond as enabling mechanism."
"You're sure?" Athelia asked.
"I counseled forty-seven candidates before you. Watched every one of them fail." His sapphire eyes met hers. "You're the first to find the evidence. The first to understand what makes you different. The first to prove the bond is the invention."
He stepped away from the car. "Sixty-eight hours. Use them well. And Athelia?"
She looked up.
"When you write the response—let the protocols help. But don't let them erase who you are. The Original Queen's final note wasn't wrong. This burden consumed her because she carried it alone." His gaze shifted to Alexander. "You have the bond. Use it."
Then he was gone. Not walked away—just gone. Like he'd never been there at all.
Casey stared at the empty space. "Does he always do that?"
"Yes," Alexander said.
They drove back to Flagstaff. Athelia opened her laptop in the passenger seat. Started organizing photographs. Building the structure of their response.
Binary flowed across the screen. She translated without thinking now. Her handwriting shifted between modern and ancient mid-word.
The integration was accelerating.
But she had the evidence. She had the law. She had Alexander.
And she had sixty-eight hours to prove they were patentable.
— END CHAPTER SEVEN —
Key Patent Statutes (Office Action Rejections):
- 35 U.S.C. § 101 - Utility requirement (specific, substantial, credible)
- 35 U.S.C. § 102 - Novelty/Anticipation (All Elements rule)
- 35 U.S.C. § 103 - Obviousness (Graham factors + secondary considerations)
- 35 U.S.C. § 112(a) - Enablement (must teach PHOSITA how to make/use)
USPTO Procedures:
- 37 CFR § 1.135(a) - Abandonment for failure to respond to Office Action
- 37 CFR § 1.56 - Duty of candor and good faith to USPTO
- 37 CFR § 11.303 - Candor toward the tribunal
Key Case Law:
- Graham v. John Deere (1966) - Four-factor test for obviousness under § 103
- KSR v. Teleflex (2007) - "Obvious to try" standard
- In re Fisher (2005) - Specific utility requirement
Critical Patent Concepts:
- All Elements Rule - § 102 anticipation requires SINGLE reference showing ALL claimed elements
- PHOSITA - Person Having Ordinary Skill In The Art (benchmark for enablement/obviousness)
- Secondary Considerations - Objective evidence overcoming prima facie obviousness
- Long-Felt Need - Problem existed for extended time without solution
- Failure of Others - Others attempted but failed to solve problem
- Unexpected Results - Invention achieved results not predicted by prior art
- Skepticism of Experts - Experts doubted invention would work
Referenced Statutes - For Patent Bar Study
Whoever invents or discovers any new and useful process, machine, manufacture, or composition of matter, or any new and useful improvement thereof, may obtain a patent therefor, subject to the conditions and requirements of this title.
Utility Requirements (case law):
SPECIFIC UTILITY: Must identify a particular use, not vague general utility. "Chemical compound" ✗ too vague. "Chemical compound for treating lung cancer" ✓ specific.
SUBSTANTIAL UTILITY: Must provide real-world benefit, not trivial improvement. Must be more than insignificant.
CREDIBLE UTILITY: PHOSITA must believe invention works. No perpetual motion machines. Must not violate known scientific principles.
(a) Novelty; Prior Art.—A person shall be entitled to a patent unless—
(1) the claimed invention was patented, described in a printed publication, or in public use, on sale, or otherwise available to the public before the effective filing date of the claimed invention; or
(2) the claimed invention was described in a patent issued under section 151, or in an application for patent published or deemed published under section 122(b), in which the patent or application, as the case may be, names another inventor and was effectively filed before the effective filing date of the claimed invention.
(b) Exceptions.—
(1) DISCLOSURES MADE 1 YEAR OR LESS BEFORE THE EFFECTIVE FILING DATE OF THE CLAIMED INVENTION.—A disclosure made 1 year or less before the effective filing date of a claimed invention shall not be prior art to the claimed invention under subsection (a)(1) if—
(A) the disclosure was made by the inventor or joint inventor or by another who obtained the subject matter disclosed directly or indirectly from the inventor or a joint inventor; or
(B) the subject matter disclosed had, before such disclosure, been publicly disclosed by the inventor or a joint inventor or another who obtained the subject matter disclosed directly or indirectly from the inventor or a joint inventor.
ALL ELEMENTS RULE: For anticipation under § 102, a SINGLE prior art reference must disclose EVERY element of the claimed invention. If even one element is missing from the reference, the claim is NOT anticipated. Multiple references can be combined only for § 103 obviousness analysis, NOT for § 102.
A patent for a claimed invention may not be obtained, notwithstanding that the claimed invention is not identically disclosed as set forth in section 102, if the differences between the claimed invention and the prior art are such that the claimed invention as a whole would have been obvious before the effective filing date of the claimed invention to a person having ordinary skill in the art to which the claimed invention pertains. Patentability shall not be negated by the manner in which the invention was made.
GRAHAM v. JOHN DEERE FOUR-FACTOR TEST (1966):
Factor 1: Scope and content of prior art - What did the prior art teach?
Factor 2: Differences between prior art and claimed invention - What's new?
Factor 3: Level of ordinary skill in the art - What would PHOSITA know/think?
Factor 4: Secondary considerations - Objective evidence of non-obviousness
SECONDARY CONSIDERATIONS (Factor 4) - Critical for Patent Bar:
• Commercial success - Invention succeeded in marketplace
• Long-felt need - Problem existed for extended time without solution
• Failure of others - Others tried and failed to solve the problem
• Unexpected results - Invention achieved unpredicted results
• Copying by competitors - Others copied the invention
• Licensing - Others paid to use the invention
• Skepticism of experts - Experts said it wouldn't work
These objective factors can overcome a prima facie case of obviousness even when the invention seems simple on its face.
(a) IN GENERAL.—The specification shall contain a written description of the invention, and of the manner and process of making and using it, in such full, clear, concise, and exact terms as to enable any person skilled in the art to which it pertains, or with which it is most nearly connected, to make and use the same, and shall set forth the best mode contemplated by the inventor or joint inventor of carrying out the invention.
ENABLEMENT TEST:
1. Can PHOSITA make the invention from the specification?
2. Can PHOSITA use the invention from the specification?
3. Can they do so WITHOUT UNDUE EXPERIMENTATION?
PHOSITA = Person Having Ordinary Skill In The Art. Legal fiction representing someone with ordinary (not exceptional, not minimal) skill in the relevant technical field. The benchmark for both enablement and obviousness analysis.
(a) Failure to reply to any Office communication. If an applicant fails to reply within the time period provided under §§ 1.134 and 1.136, the application will become abandoned unless such reply is accompanied by a petition for revival including the fee set forth in § 1.17(m) granted under § 1.137.
Note: This is THE critical deadline rule. Miss your Office Action response deadline = application ABANDONED. Response period is typically 3 months (extendable to 6 months with fees). In Chapter 7, Athelia has 72-hour deadline under Old Law prosecution rules.
(a) A patent by its very nature is affected with a public interest. The public interest is best served, and the most effective patent examination occurs when, at the time an application is being examined, the Office is aware of and evaluates the teachings of all information material to patentability. Each individual associated with the filing and prosecution of a patent application has a duty of candor and good faith in dealing with the Office, which includes a duty to disclose to the Office all information known to that individual to be material to patentability as defined in this section.
(b) The duty to disclose information exists with respect to each pending claim until the claim is cancelled or withdrawn from consideration, or the application becomes abandoned. Information material to the patentability of a claim that is cancelled or withdrawn from consideration need not be submitted if the information is not material to patentability of any claim remaining under consideration in the application.
(a) A practitioner shall not knowingly:
(1) Make a false statement of fact or law to a tribunal or fail to correct a false statement of material fact or law previously made to the tribunal by the practitioner;
(2) Fail to disclose to the tribunal legal authority in the controlling jurisdiction known to the practitioner to be directly adverse to the position of the client and not disclosed by opposing counsel; or
(3) Offer evidence that the practitioner knows to be false.
Note: In Chapter 7, Malacar cites this rule when Alexander tries to hide his wolf ears with a hoodie. Physical manifestations of the bond are EVIDENCE of the attorney-client relationship and must remain visible during prosecution.
ISSUE: What is the proper test for determining obviousness under 35 U.S.C. § 103?
HOLDING: Supreme Court established four-factor framework for obviousness analysis (the "Graham factors"):
1. Scope and content of the prior art
2. Differences between the prior art and the claims at issue
3. Level of ordinary skill in the pertinent art
4. Secondary considerations (objective indicia of non-obviousness)
CRITICAL PRINCIPLE: Obviousness is a question of law based on underlying factual findings. These four factors provide the factual framework. Courts must avoid hindsight bias—can't use the invention itself as a roadmap to find it obvious.
SECONDARY CONSIDERATIONS (FACTOR 4) - THE KEY TO CHAPTER 7:
• Commercial success - Product successful in marketplace
• Long-felt but unsolved need - Problem existed for years without solution
• Failure of others - Others tried and failed to solve the problem
• Unexpected results - Invention achieved unpredicted advantages
• Copying by competitors - Others imitated the invention
• Licensing - Others willing to pay for the technology
• Skepticism of experts - Experts doubted it would work
• Industry praise - Recognition within the field
Secondary considerations can OVERCOME prima facie obviousness. If examiner establishes that combining prior art references would be obvious, applicant can rebut with secondary considerations evidence. In Chapter 7, Athelia finds ALL the secondary considerations: 247 years (long-felt need), 47 failed candidates (failure of others), Archive Division declared it unsolved (skepticism), bond achieved integration despite amnesia (unexpected results).
EXAM TIP: Graham factors appear on EVERY Patent Bar exam. Know all four. Factor 4 (secondary considerations) can save an otherwise weak application.
ISSUE: Whether Federal Circuit's rigid application of "teaching-suggestion-motivation" (TSM) test was too restrictive for determining obviousness.
HOLDING: Supreme Court rejected rigid TSM test. Obviousness analysis cannot be confined to explicit teachings in prior art. Courts and examiners can use common sense, ordinary creativity, and predictable variations when determining whether invention would be obvious to PHOSITA.
KEY PRINCIPLES FROM KSR:
1. "Obvious to Try": When there are finite number of identified, predictable solutions and PHOSITA has good reason to pursue known options, trying them is likely obvious. But "obvious to try" requires:
• Finite number of solutions (not unlimited options)
• Predictable results from trying each option
• Reasonable expectation of success
2. Market Forces: Demand in marketplace can be reason to combine prior art elements
3. Design Incentives: If prior art creates obvious design need, satisfying that need may be obvious
4. Common Sense: Examiners can use common sense when determining whether combination is obvious
BUT - KSR STILL REQUIRES ARTICULATED REASONING: Examiner can't just say "common sense" without explanation. Must provide reasoned analysis of why PHOSITA would make the combination.
Application in Chapter 7: Isaac argues it's "obvious to try" substituting modern queen for historical queen with predictable results (Graham Factor 3). But Athelia's secondary considerations rebut this—47 failures show it was NOT predictable, NOT finite solutions, and NO reasonable expectation of success.
ISSUE: Whether claimed ESTs (expressed sequence tags - short DNA sequences) have specific and substantial utility under 35 U.S.C. § 101 when used only as research tools to identify genes.
HOLDING: ESTs lack specific utility where applicant identifies only general research uses. To satisfy § 101, invention must have specific, substantial, and credible utility.
SPECIFIC UTILITY REQUIREMENT:
• Must identify PARTICULAR USE, not vague general utility
• "Tool for further research" is NOT specific enough
• Must show REAL-WORLD APPLICATION providing concrete benefit
EXAMPLES FROM CASE:
✗ "ESTs can be used to identify genes" - TOO VAGUE
✗ "Chemical compound with pharmaceutical potential" - TOO GENERAL
✓ "Chemical compound for treating lung cancer" - SPECIFIC
✓ "EST identifying BRCA1 gene for cancer diagnosis" - SPECIFIC
SUBSTANTIAL UTILITY: Utility must be significant, not trivial. "Makes baseballs fly 1 inch farther" might be too insignificant.
CREDIBLE UTILITY: PHOSITA must believe invention works. Specification must provide evidence or persuasive reasoning that utility is achievable.
Application in Chapter 7: Isaac's § 101 rejection challenges whether "Guardian Queen examination protocols" are specific enough. Athelia must identify WHAT gets examined, HOW examination works, and WHY it benefits the public—not just vague "examination duties." The bond-enabled protocol transfer provides the specific, substantial, credible utility.
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