"Uhhh..."

"Uhhh..." you try, and fail, to think of any possible time you've heard that name. It sounds familiar, but that means nothing - the words sound so generic that you might just be thinking you've encountered it before. Finally you give up. "Not that I can recall."

"It's okay," Mr. Baxter replies with a nod. "They don't make anything you'd buy, and presumably you're not employed by them. They have a campus about thirty minutes south of downtown, on the edge of the city. You've probably driven by it before without even thinking."

Of course! "Ohhhhhh!" you exclaim with a shake of your head, "That's where I know it from! I remember now. Some of our customers have badges with that company name on them. They must be commuting in and out with their shifts there."

"I'm not surprised you didn't originally think of it, though," the attorney says with a shrug. "They aren't an active presence in the city for the most part, and - as I said - you're not likely to ever encounter them otherwise. They make factory automation. Robots, in other words."

"Alright..." Though you have the answer to your frustratingly half-remembered memory, you don't understand what this has to do with anything. "So why should I know about it?"

"According to my firm's research," your driver replies, "the company has been in business since 1976. At that time, however, they operated under the name Rossum's Universal Robots."

Your mouth drops open as the sound of cash registers ring inside your head. "What?! I'm inheriting a corporation?!" Businesses, especially tech businesses, were big money deals - and if you now owned one...

The first response you hear is a sigh, and you see Mr. Baxter frown. "Nothing so grandiose, I'm afraid," he says at last. "It appears from our research that Harold sold his stake in the company back in the 80's and entered a functional early retirement. It was still a multi-million dollar buy-out, but given the actual assets being transferred in this estate it appears that our client expended much much of his finances in the intervening decades in pursuit of his... interests. The real value of his holdings has thus dwindled considerably."

The odd emphasis placed on the word 'interests' gives you pause, and you look at the attorney quizzically - yet he remains unreadable. "Did you know him?" you ask at last.

"Oh, goodness no!" he replies in a defensive haste you haven't yet seen from the man. "My firm merely represents his estate. We were hired as executors for his will and testament through an intermediary. If it weren't for that-" Suddenly Mr. Baxter's whole demeanor shifts as he feigns a cough and reacquires his inscrutable professional exterior. "Ahem! That is to say, we have maintained no personal contact with the deceased. Hence why this research has been necessary. Well, here we are."

You pull up in front of a modest-sized, modern-looking, dark-wood-and-glass home deep within the recesses of upscale suburbia. Expertly-manicured evergreens dot a glass-fenced porch on the second floor, and the whole place looks, frankly, immaculate. Your deceased relative must have been a serious stickler for cleanliness.

Turning off the car, Mr. Baxter sighs softly. "The estate you stand to inherit consists of the personal home and possessions of Mr. Harold Rossum, as well as the contents of his personal accounts after his outstanding debts have been paid."