Back home in her penthouse apartment, Theora took the time to load the electric tea-maker and change into a fluffy bathrobe with matching slippers before sitting down and watching the one viewphone message she had received all day. Kent's familiar hooded, sleepy eyes and slicked-back dark hair surfaced on her screen. "Hi, Theora. I watched Network 23's broadcast tonight and wanted to congratulate you on catching the criminals. I'm sorry I can't make it to the apartment tonight, but I hope we can set a date later this week. See you then." The message faded away, and Theora pushed her chair back and sighed.
It had been too long since she'd seen Kent- so long, in fact, that sometimes she forgot she was even in a relationship. They had been on a couple of dates before the gang crime had started, and were forced into communicating through viewphone after that, because of Theora's long working hours and Kent's fear of the criminals on her behalf. The fact that Theora hadn't told anyone yet that she was in a relationship also lent it an air of unreality. She didn't often discuss her private life unless it came up naturally in conversation, and besides, part of Theora was worried about the reaction at work- namely, what Edison would think. The first time she had accidentally let it slip that she was seeing someone, Edison had acted surly and moody around her, seeming not to believe that she would willingly date anyone. Since then, Theora had childishly tried to keep any budding relationships on the down-low, in order not to bruise Edison's ego. But it wasn't always easy when the boyfriend gave her presents…
Theora rose from her seat at the viewphone and went over to her breakfast table, plucking the shiny necklace off of it and holding it before her eyes. It seemed an old-fashioned gift for Kent to give her, but the dangling, glittery charms spoke of his deep affection, even if they weren't worth much. An odd sentiment rose in her mind- Diamonds are forever. She racked her brain to think of where she had heard it before, but drew a blank. Most likely it came from an ancient poet of some sort.
No longer afraid of prying eyes, Theora clasped Kent's present around her neck and fastened it carefully in the back. She roused to look at herself in a nearby mirror, heart thudding for an unknown reason as she turned this way and that, trying to find the best angle to suit her appearance. Up close, the necklace reminded Theora of the cheap trinkets she had had as an excuse for jewelry during her girlhood days. She frowned the slightest bit, lightly biting her plump lower lip. To wear this necklace was to seal the deal. Anyone would be able to tell from looking at her that she was involved with a man, and intended to keep her relations as such. Kent would surely be pleased- but what would the folks at work think? What would Edison think?
"Edison can keep his opinions to himself," Theora muttered, and her words brought on an unconscious smile. Since when had Edison ever kept his opinions to himself? Raising her eyes to the glass, Theora was struck so violently with the image of her humored self that she quickly looked away, drawing back from the mirror. If she was ever caught at home laughing over Edison… Theora returned to the tea-maker and drew her cup out, taking a brief sip before wincing at its heat and retiring at last to her spacious and comfortable bed, where she channel-surfed by the TV while waiting for the tea to cool. Nightly programming was crap more often than not, so after a while Theora started to drift away, her eyelids growing heavy.
Her last thoughts before the TV lulled her to sleep were of Edison Carter, a forbidden topic during the day, but one that Theora thought of altogether too much at night. Right from the start, Edison had been a bit of a stud around her- his words from the one time he had visited her apartment still surfaced occasionally in her memory; "How's your head?" "Fine. How's yours?"- and equally a bit of a mystery. Vanna Smith, Patty Ashman- these were names that meant more to Edison than Theora would ever be able to figure out. Talking to the evasive Max wouldn't help, and Theora didn't want to pry into Edison's personal life, not after he had done the same to her. She had called him out on it, and now digging into his files would be hypocritical. But all the same, Theora often wondered who Edison had been, and how he had gotten so far in life.
Why was she so curious about him? She wasn't in love with him. She didn't like him any more than a controller had to like their assigned reporter. They were friends, but only occasionally met outside of work. Why did Theora continue to pursue Edison in her mind? Perhaps it was because of his obvious strong attraction towards her. He had made more innuendo-loaded quips to her than she had ever heard in her life. It wouldn't have bothered Theora if she was able to believe it was mere joking… but she had seen Edison's personal dreams flashing on a TV screen, as clear as day, and her face had filled the majority of them. Not even in sleep could one trick and delude oneself into believing anything, not even if subliminally-penetrating advertisements existed on TV.
Still, there was the question of whether Edison wanted physical gratification or a true relationship. Theora hadn't seen him with a romantic partner yet, so she wasn't sure what his normal behavior was towards girlfriends.
But why was Theora even thinking of this when she had Kent in her life?
By this point, Theora had fallen asleep, her mind a confusing tumult of emotions, the teacup sliding out of her hand's loosening grip and the necklace still clasped around her neck, digging into her skin like ice.
The viewphone woke Theora up early the next morning, and she jolted forward from her position of lying on her side, shock dancing through her and then dissolving as if she had spilt last night's hot tea on herself. Which, Theora discovered as she took stock of her situation and surveyed the bedsheets, it appeared she had. The dark liquid had seeped into her sheets and now left an indelible stain. Damn… Just as Theora was about to get up to retrieve the teacup and find something to clean her sheets with, she noticed that the viewphone was on. She returned to her bedside somewhat reluctantly and took the call, coming face to virtual face with Edison Carter.
"Hey, Theora," Edison greeted her, his tone of voice light but tension ringing around his eyes. "I'm sorry if I just woke you up. I've been thinking about the story we did last night…"
"Oh…" Theora mumbled, glancing away immediately before remembering everything that had happened last night. After discovering where the teenage gangs had lurked and helping the Metrocops catch them, Edison had spoken to one of the boys who claimed that the gang's evil actions had been spurred on by a man living in London, who had sent them to the city across the river to carry out his bidding. Edison had expressed interest in following the story to its root in London, instead of sitting back and letting the London Metrocops handle it. He just never gave up the job, did he? Theora supposed that this was what came of thinking of crimes in terms of news stories and not in terms of crimes themselves. Turning her eyes back to Edison's expectant face, she tried to reply to him in as clear a tone she could muster, not wanting to appear disorganized.
"I'm sorry, Edison, I just got up now. It's been a long week." Theora gazed placidly into Edison's inscrutable eyes, wondering what her face was showing. Behind her, she became distinctly aware of the TV blaring. "What is it you were thinking about regarding the story?"
Edison blinked at Theora's disarray, and inclined his head slightly forward as he spoke. "It's okay. I've just been going over what Les told me last night. Anyone could make a case that he was just trying to pin the blame on someone in hopes that he would get away scot free, but it doesn't make sense why he would mention another man's name if everything he said was a lie."
"You're right, it doesn't make sense," Theora replied, finally gaining some of her wits about her as the morning fuzziness fell away from her brain. "Who was the man Les mentioned?"
"He said his name was Alexander Burgess," Edison told her. "And he said that he lives in London, and that he can't be prosecuted for his crimes. However, I highly doubt that last statement- more likely, I'm thinking Alexander Burgess just can't be found." He stared at Theora expectantly, as if he was waiting for her to ask a question that he could answer and get immediately down to the point. Theora gave him that question. "So you want to get down to London, help track down Alexander Burgess, and then cover the story when the Metrocops find him?"
"Exactly," Edison said with a smile that bordered on a smirk. "All I need is to get support from the Metrocops, from you, and from Murray. My dear Theora…" Friendly sarcasm played behind Edison's voice as he made the proposition. "Will you help me follow this story to London?"
Theora didn't bother pointing out that it was Murray's permission he needed before hers. "If Murray gives you the okay, of course I'll help you out," she said.
"Why thank you- I couldn't pull this off without my very best controller." Edison waited for Theora to take the bait, but she wouldn't rise to the occasion. Instead, she nodded. "I think we'd better meet down at 23 to talk this over with Murray. I'll get dressed and see you there in a moment."
"All right," Edison said, starting to get up. "See you, Theora." Theora moved to flick the viewphone off, but just before she could Edison stopped her with a comment that cut through her sleep-fogged brain. "Hey, nice rocks. Where did you get that necklace?"
Rocks? Theora confusedly plunged back into a sitting position, and it was then that she felt the cold sting of the necklace, nestled in her chest. She couldn't resist a peek at it before turning her attention to Edison, the words drying up in her mouth. Unpleasant déjà vu swam through her head, the morning Edison had caught her by surprise when she was in bed with her old boyfriend… She had seen the way his dark eyes hardened from liquid pools into frozen ones, heard the flat air of disinterest in his voice and felt the coldness radiate from him at work the following day. Though Edison had no right to behave like a jealous boyfriend, upsetting him was not something Theora wished to do again. Especially since it had led to her breakup from the real boyfriend in the end.
"Oh, it was a present," Theora said, pretending not to be bothered. "A friend gave it to me." The gender of said friend would remain unspoken. Edison stared at her chest for a moment more- Theora had half a mind to draw her bathrobe in closer, but Edison would notice and probably turn her actions into a joke- before nodding slowly and drawling in his pleasantly deep timbre, "Doesn't look like it cost very much…"
Theora inhaled, feeling Edison's sneaking suspicion creep up the back of her spine as if the emotion belonged to her. He was right to assume it was a boyfriend, but Theora was loth to give him any more hints. "They're just diamonds," she told Edison coolly, standing up. "If you don't mind, I have to get dressed."
"Mm," Edison said as Theora stepped out of the view of the viewphone. "All right, I'll see you in a few. Bye, Theora."
"Goodbye, Edison," Theora said, and turned the viewphone off. She stood in place for a while deliberating on everything they had said to each other before sighing and walking over to the TV, unfastening and discarding her necklace at the same time. Sometimes she wished that, unlike the viewphone, there was a way to turn the TV off…
"Crunchy Flakes- the breakfast cereal for you!" the TV was declaring as Theora closed the blinds of a nearby window and began to undress, when suddenly the falsely cheery voice of the commercial's announcer was replaced with a telltale stuttering voice. "Good-good-good-good morning, Theora! I hope I'm not- ahem- bothering y-you-ou-ou."
"Max!" Theora cried, immediately pulling her bathrobe together and spinning around, clutching her garments tightly in hand. Max only smirked with the full-of-himself air he often shared with Edison, having even less shame than the reporter did. A crazy thought ran across Theora's mind- that if she had forgotten to cover herself before turning around, Max would tease and torture Edison with the claim that he had seen Theora naked all day.
Pushing her thoughts aside, Theora ran a free hand through her hair and adapted a stern expression. "This is a surprise. You don't usually make house calls."
"I th-th-thought I'd drop by and s-s-s-see what you're up to- up to- up to," Max said, taking an on air of faux innocence. "Don't w-w-worry, I saw absolutely-lutely-lutely nothing-thing. Not-not-not that I would care any-any-anyway- unlike-like a certain counterpart-part-part of m-mine." Though Max's digital face was placid now, Theora could easily imagine him ending his statement in a wink. She sighed and rolled her eyes, turning around. "Thank you for the information, Max. Now can you let me dress in peace?"
"N-n-not until you ma-a-ake me a p-promise-omise-promise," Max stated, smug and serious at the same time. Theora halted in her movement- she had been about to tear her bathrobe off, just to get Max to shut up for a moment- and slowly turned around on her heel, mustering up as much irritation on her face as possible. "What is it now?"
"I-I-I want you to p-p-p-promise me-me-me," Max began, "that you'll talk-talk-talk to Ch-Ch-Cheviot about g-g-giving-ing me my own sh-show."
Theora's annoyance dissolved into surprise. "Why are you asking me to talk to Cheviot?"
"Be-Because you're the only one wh-who'll listen-ten-ten!" Max exclaimed. "M-M-Murray won't hel-hel-help m-me. You-you-you saw him l-l-last night-ight. Br-Br-Bryce is always 'w-w-working-orking-king-'" Theora could practically hear the quotation marks dripping from Max's speech- "an-an-and Ed-Ed-Edison will think I'm stealing-ealing-stealing his spot-spot-spotlight! It's-it's-it's such a poor-or-poor life for a self-self-self respecting g-guy like m-m-me." Finished, Max let out a resigned huff and drew his head back, gazing challengingly at Theora.
Theora had only ever seen Max truly angry once, and thus was able to decipher that this outburst was nothing but joking melodrama. However, Max was absolutely serious in his assertions- that he wanted his own show, and that he believed that Theora was the only person to give it to him. In response, Theora narrowed her eyes at the TV screen, meeting Max's challenge with an equally snappy glare.
"If this is so important, Max, why can't you ask Cheviot yourself?"
"Oh," Max sighed, sounding fed up. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, or what could be called a ceiling inside of the TV. "I've tr-tr-tried that, believe-lieve-lieve me! He g-g-g-got s-sick of my-my-my demands." Returning his gaze to Theora, Max tried to give his expression a wounded look, but it came off too strangely. "He-he-he actually told me to b-b-bugger off! Off! Off! Can you believe-lieve-lieve it?"
"Yes, I can," Theora sighed again, glancing towards the large digital clock by the viewphone. She needed to get going, and wouldn't allow Max to stall her. Turning around, Theora sashayed over to her dresser and pressed a button that made the doors swing open, asking Max behind her back, "Why do you want a show for yourself?"
Immediately Max launched into a tirade that sounded rehearsed to Theora's ears, a two-minute rant that encompassed all of his emotions towards Network 23, how he was growing tired of being thought of as 23's poster child and always being linked to Edison. Theora, out of Max's line of vision, tried to keep from laughing as she dressed and listened. When Max was finally done pouting, Theora stepped back towards him, fishing the diamond necklace off the floor, and said to Max, "All right, Max, if that's how you feel, I'll try to talk to Cheviot." Though she was unsure of how kindly he would take her interaction, seeing as they had never come face to face before and rarely spoke directly to each other.
Max's voice filled with delight. "You w-wi-will?!" he cried out as Theora fastened the necklace around her neck, tersely nodding. "YIPPEE-PEE-PEE!" With the high-pitched shout, Theora froze with shock as Max's televised image spun around in a circle, briefly showing the back of his head. When he was facing the right way again, there was a huge smile plastered to his face that seemed would crack and fall off if it stretched any wider.
"How did you do that?" Theora asked, referring to Max's spin.
"Oh, j-j-j-just one of my many-many-many tricks," Max beamed. "And now, I'll k-k-keep my end of the deal-deal."
A second before Max could blip off to bother another lonely person, Theora called out to him. "Wait- Max…"
"Aha-a-a-a! I knew-knew-knew you needed me!" Max cried.
"I just want to know- is this how Edison feels about Network 23?" Theora asked, her voice coming out sounding less sure of herself than she would have liked it to. "Does he want elbow room like you do?"
"El-elbow-elbow room?" Max repeated, puzzled, and then launched into a violent, terrifying burst of laughter, one of the most frightening sounds Theora had ever heard and one that she always loathed hearing again. "Ed-Edison leave Network-Network-Network 23! HAHAHAHAHA! Edison is mar-mar-married to Net-Net-Network 23!" And with that last word of supposed comfort, Max vanished. Theora breathed deeply, collecting her scattered nerves and thanking God that Max had left, and at the same time wondering why it mattered so much to her to know that Edison wasn't thinking of pursuing an alternate job. She wouldn't be out of a job if Edison left, unless the network fell to ruins in his absence, which was a highly unlikely scenario.
Banishing all thoughts of Edison and Max, Theora was about to turn the knob to her penthouse door when the same tantalizing voice called out from behind her again. "Oh, Theo-o-oraaaa! I al-al-almost forgo-t-t-t to ask-k-k! Wh-wh-where did you get th-th-that necklace-ce?"
Why the hell did Max care? Theora responded to him in a cold voice. "A friend bought it for me." She wrenched the door open.
"A… cer-cer-certain friend?" Max questioned. "A… boyfri-i-iend?"
Slowly, Theora turned her neck around to face Max, letting her guard slip a bit so that Max could read the truth in her eyes.
"You won't tell Edison, will you?" she murmured. Max only shrugged his shoulders- which, in essence, were the only part of him besides his face that he could move.
"I wo-wo-won't bre-athe a word. Not-not-not if y-y-you talk to Ch-Ch-Cheviot."
Theora exhaled. "I will, Max. I promise." Max grinned and disappeared from sight, bringing the morning advertisements back again.
What an eventful morning! Who knew that Theora would spend it being blackmailed by an alternate, deranged version of her working partner? She stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind her.
"What took you so long?" was the first thing Edison asked Theora as she came into the TV station that morning.
She gave a rueful smile, though she was slightly irritated that Edison would think she was late, though they hadn't even agreed on a time to come in. "Max held me up." Edison gave a short bark of laughter as Theora sat down at her work station.
"Just throw a blanket over the TV. That's what I always do." Theora could feel Edison approaching her from behind, staring over her shoulder as she logged in to her familiar monitor.
"Yes, but does it stop him talking?" Theora said absently, and Edison's response was the backtracking, "Well, no…"
"There's no way to shut Max Headroom up," sounded Murray's voice from in front of Theora as he approached her and Edison, tightly sweeping his way across the floor. "Short of breaking the law and installing an off switch on the TV. I thought you'd have gotten used to it by now."
"Do you ever leave this building, Murray?" Edison asked teasingly, turning towards the producer. Theora was oddly grateful for his attention leaving her. She returned her own attention to the computer, fitting in earpieces and adjusting the microphone close to her mouth.
"Every few years," Murray answered dryly. Theora heard the slap of skin on clothing as he clapped Edison's shoulder. "All right, kids. You set to find and break the next big news story?"
"Well," Edison began, and Theora had to force herself to keep fiddling with the monitor, knowing what was coming next, "not as such."
"Not as such?" Murray's voice was confused. "What do you mean? You're not still thinking about that story about London that that kid told you last night, are you?"
Despite herself, Theora wanted to giggle when she heard Murray's absolutely correct assumption. Edison replied to him in an even tone. "You've hit the nail on the head." Theora glanced up just in time to see Murray sigh, exasperation filling his face.
"Edison, I told you last night that the story is over. It's out of our hands by now." Glancing from face to face, Theora could immediately tell that this was going to be another battle to make Edison see what Murray thought of as sense. Being the show's producer who rarely got his hands dirty with Edison's actual work, Murray was more concerned about the ratings than a sense of justice, while Edison, being the investigative reporter who had go into the field to find his stories, stayed true to his show's title by tracking down what he wanted to know. The biggest problem with their arguments was that both were very stubborn men who thought their way was the best. Theora often got left in the dust as she watched Murray and Edison's arguments from afar.
"For the people in London, this story isn't over," Edison said evenly. "Do you or do you not want to rightfully convict the guilty? It's not much, but if any of the kids arrested last night are given a trial, any information on this Alexander Burgess would be enough to prove that the boys were being compelled to commit the crimes that they did, not that they willingly chose to hurt innocents."
"Last night you told Les that he and his delinquents get what they deserve," Murray said, his voice tight. "Whose side are you on now?"
Edison ducked his head. "I know it sounds like I'm changing my mind too quickly. The point is that while Les and the other boys captured last night are definitely guilty, there are more people to blame who need to be found and apprehended. All I'm asking is to leave for London tonight so that I can try and find Alexander Burgess, discover whether or not he's guilty of igniting the gang activity, and bring him to justice if he is. It'd be a nice follow-up to last night's story, in any case." He stared defiantly at Murray, daring him to disagree. Theora could see that Murray found it hard to argue with the idea of Edison being the first to jump on a prospective story, but that he also remained convinced that the story was fair game to the London Metrocops and reporters.
"Surely you don't have to go all the way to London to meet this guy-" Murray began.
"Murray, do you think I could just invite a criminal over here for tea at my house?" Edison interrupted witheringly. "He's sure to be hiding out in London. I'll have to go if I want to question him."
"How are you going to manage without us in London?" Theora asked, breaking in on the conversation, and Edison cracked a smile. "How are you, my dear Theora, going to manage without seeing my face every day?"
"I swear, sometimes you're just as egotistical as Max Headroom," Murray muttered under his breath, obviously vexed. Edison wouldn't let it deter his mood as he continued breezily, "Well, it's only natural for Max and I to have some similarities…" He turned to Theora, his eyes peering inquisitively and hypnotically into hers. "If I'm going to visit London, I'll need you to come with me to access their city's mainframe."
"Unless there's another way for you?" Murray spoke up, his gaze lighting on Theora with interest. At once pleased to be the center of attention, Theora let the hint of a smile play around her lips, tempting her audience by withholding information. Finally she indulged her coworkers after one second's suspense. "I know how to access another city's mainframe. It's not a skill that's easily learned, but it's occasionally useful." She twisted around and sat down at her monitor, thrilled to be showing Edison and Murray one of her secret tricks.
"All one has to do," Theora explained, as her fingers flew over the metallic typewriter keys and two pairs of eyes watched hungrily, "is trace the city's satellite signal, and-" With one final stroke of the keyboard, the screen began blinking with red text that read ACCESS ALLOWED. Theora glanced up, trying not to look smug. It was not in her nature to look smug. "And there you have it."
"Nice," Edison said in a tone that conveyed deep appreciation, just as he had when Theora had first met him and showed off her skills on hacking a SecuriCam. A gentle hand rested on her shoulder, and Theora didn't need to look up to know it was his. "That's a pretty useful trick."
"It will be hard going into this without knowing what the city looks like," Theora said, studying the monitor's screen, "but that's what your camera's for." Besides, she had been to London before, a few years ago. The city couldn't have changed very much.
"So," Edison said, "unless you-" his pointed tone was aimed at Murray- "have any objections, it's all settled. I'll catch a mag-lev train to London tomorrow."
"I don't have any objections," Murray stated, the sound of his voice directly contradicting what he had said. "I want to make that clear. I have no objections with your actions, I'm just not sure if they're justified."
Edison pushed himself away from Theora's seat and moved in on Murray, his voice coming out in a controlled pleading tone and his eyes willing Murray to see his side. "Come on. It's a story, Murray- it's the only way we can convict the root of the evil in our city and wrap up this story once and for all."
Murray held Edison's sharp gaze levelly, not backing down. No matter how much of a spitfire Edison occasionally grew, he refused to give in to what he saw as an impracticality. "Just make sure it's the audience you're gratifying," he said, "and not yourself."
Edison sucked in a breath, knowing that Murray was determined to have the last word, but not letting himself lose ground. He half-smiled and delivered his statement in a chiding tone. "News is not gratification, Murray…" Then, stepping back, Edison went back to Theora's monitor, turning his attention onto the screen as if no exchange had taken place. He knew he had won, but he wasn't gloating outwardly. Theora stayed silent and virtually traveled down the city streets, familiarizing herself with London once again.
"If you insist on doing this story, make sure you come back with a good one," Murray warned, but Edison wasn't listening anymore. When Theora lifted her head from her work to ask him why he was still watching over her shoulder, he grinned a tricky grin, expressing his pleasure that he had gotten his way.
"I've got to make arrangements for leaving," he said, straightening up and moving away from Theora's space. "First thing I'll need is the camera."
"It's in the office," Murray said without looking at Edison. "Be my guest."
"Thanks." He departed, and Theora raised her eyes to meet Murray's frustrated, yet triumphant face. "I guess it's better than no news at all," he said, and Theora nodded. "Anything is better than no news."
She would have turned back to the monitor and absorbed herself in the London mainframe if Murray hadn't asked apropos of nothing, "Where did you get that necklace, Theora?"
Theora turned, her hand reaching up to caress Kent's gift unconsciously. She had forgotten she was wearing it, but now it seemed to be burning a hole in her skin.
"A friend gave it to me," she answered, her voice cool. Theora could almost understand why Edison might want to know about new pieces of jewelry (so that means he notices what I wear every day?), but she didn't see why Murray would care. As if realizing how awkward his question was, Murray cleared his throat and apologized. "I'm sorry, it's just… I've never seen you wear a piece of jewelry like that before. Are those diamonds?"
"Just diamonds," Theora said stiffly. What was the big deal? They could have been glass for all it mattered.
"You know, diamonds used to be much more expensive than they are now," Murray murmured, but he said nothing more on the subject, and Theora was glad. Remembering her necklace and Kent, however, also reminded her of the deal she'd made with Max that morning. Glancing out of the corner of her eyes at Murray, who now peering at a nearby monitor, Theora debated on whether or not she should break her promise to Max and tell Murray about what Max wanted, or if she should keep her mouth shut and wait until she had a moment to talk to Cheviot about it. Then she remembered that Murray had the closer connection to Cheviot, being the news producer, and figured that if she was ever going to try to persuade Network 23's president, she would have to ask Murray how to reach him first. And that would mean explaining what Max wanted to him, which most likely would not go over well. Murray wasn't the biggest fan of Edison's AI double. But then again, he was the only person that Max hadn't mentioned turning him down, so maybe he would take the burden- er, responsibility- off of Theora's hands.
Theora arranged herself so that she was sitting with her back to her monitor and lowered her microphone before saying to Murray, "There's something I promised… someone that I would talk to you about."
"Yes?" Murray said, turning all of his body and attention back to Theora. "What it is?"
"Well," Theora began, and then during her brief pause one of the monitors behind Murray flickered to life, showing immediately Max Headroom's bust against his wonted background of blue with yellow waving lines. Theora nearly forgot what she was going to say, so prepared was she to let Max talk, but to her surprise he committed a rare act of silence and simply stared at her, waiting to continue. Theora was slightly disturbed by the realization that when Max wasn't talking, he resembled Edison more often than he ever did normally.
"…I was talking with Max this morning," Theora said, trying to bring her gaze back to Murray's face, and Max nodded behind him, as if confirming what she was saying. Forging ahead, Theora said, "Do you remember his outburst last night? Everything he said about wanting to be free of Network 23 and getting sick of having to wait around for Edison to finish his broadcasts?"
"Yes, I remember that bit of melodrama quite well," Murray said, and over his shoulder Theora saw Max open his mouth, as if to issue a stinging retort, but then he remembered where he was and went back to waiting expectantly for Theora to broach to subject, although he still looked frustrated. Theora relaxed, taking Max's silence as a sign that he wasn't bothered by her decision to take the problem to Murray. She only hoped Murray wouldn't be bothered by the problem…
"This morning Max came to me and told me that he wants his own show," Theora said, and it took a second before the words fully hit Murray. Immediately his interested expression dropped, to be replaced by one of open bemusement, and more than a little irritation. "And… why did he say that?" Murray asked, his eyes suddenly casting about as if trying to find Max on one of the nearby monitors. Fortunately, he didn't turn around, and Max sat inside the monitor smirking like the cat that got the cream. Theora wondered if he would thank her for her actions later, and immediately decided he wouldn't.
Returning to Murray, Theora shook her head. "He just wants some… elbow room. He's tired of everyone paying more attention to Edison rather than him, and he doesn't want to be thought of as Network 23's trained dog. Or trained AI, in this case…" Max nodded sagely behind Murray, agreeing with every word that Theora said, and Murray's expression turned into exasperation. Before he could ask the question of why Theora was involving him, Theora explained, "Max asked me this morning if I could talk to Cheviot about it, and I wanted to get your permission…" She could already see in Murray's eyes that she was fighting a losing battle, and so stepped back to give him a chance to speak.
"This is ridiculous," Murray said at once. "Max has more freedom than any of us here. He can appear on whatever channel he wants and can interrupt any program if it so pleases him. Why would he want more publicity? We've already got him endorsing that soda and whatever other products Zik-Zak can pin on him…"
"AHEM-HEM!" Max finally spoke up, and Murray whirled around, visibly frightened by the realization that Max had been listening to the conversation all along.
"That's-that's what k-k-kind of attitude I'm talking-talk-talking about, mister!" he blurted. "I'm not h-here to p-p-p-promote soft drinks! I'm-I'm here because people like to s-s-s-see-s-see my win-win-winsome smile." He briefly displayed it before continuing in harsh tones, "I w-w-want more attention, and I-I-I want m-m-more people to l-l-love me. But n-n-now I'm standing-anding-st-st-standing in Ed-Ed-Edison's shadow and it's not f-f-f-air!"
"I guess this settles the question of how much he and Edison are alike," Murray mumbled out of the side of his mouth, before addressing Max clearly. "Max, it's not worth throwing a tantrum about-"
"T-T-T-tantrum?!" Max stuttered. "Ex-ex-excu-u-se me, but I th-th-th-think that I'm being per-per-perfectly reasonable-reason-reasonable about this…" Glancing out from inside the TV screen, his expression suddenly changed, as if realizing that he was going slightly over the top. Theora, on her part, was no longer amused and just wanted Max to get on with it.
"Well, o-o-okay," he sighed, his voice squealing up on octave, "f-f-f-forget that-that. I just want to be l-l-l-loved for who I am-am-am." Max hung his head and tried to look dejected, and Murray exchanged a glance with Theora. They both knew that Max would try his best to wheedle his way onto their good graces, and wouldn't stop begging for his own show until he either got it or settled for the second best option, which he already basically had.
"Why can't you ask Cheviot yourself?" Murray asked, and Theora answered before Max could say anything. "Cheviot told him to 'bugger off.'"
"Well, there you have it," Murray sighed. "If the idea doesn't fly with Cheviot, it's not going to happen." He then imbued his voice with warm apologetic sincerity to address Max. "You have plenty of attention doing those commercials for Zik-Zak, Max. You don't need your own show on prime-time TV."
Max brightened. "I-I-I wasn't going to as-ask for a p-p-p-p-prime time sl-slot, but now that you men-men-mention it…"
"Hey, Max," called a voice from behind Theora, sounding disturbingly like Max's voice minus the stutter. As soon as Max caught sight of the visitor, his eyes and mouth popped and he cried, "Here's the big-b-b-big shot reporter n-n-now! I'll-I-I'll see you all l-l-later." The monitor went black at last, and Theora and Murray turned to Edison, Theora feeling slightly guilty for ignoring his greetings. Edison crossed his arms and looked from face to face with an inscrutable expression on his own.
"So," he said, "Max is getting what he always wanted- more popularity than my own."
Theora and Murray gave nervous chuckles, and Edison relaxed, setting his camera on Theora's desk and drawing in close, as if he had a secret that he was just dying to share. Theora stood up without realizing it and moved in automatically.
"It's all been settled," Edison explained to his audience of two. "I just bought a ticket for a round trip to London by mag-lev. The train's going to leave at two this afternoon. Murray, if you'll let me leave so that I can pack…"
"Sure," Murray said in the resigned tone of a man who knew he'd lost the battle. "Go ahead, take all the time in the world."
"Should I stay here all day until you get to London?" Theora asked. Her fingers reached up to unconsciously massage the diamond necklace around her neck. If Edison needed her to work with him all day, it appeared that another day would have to pass without her meeting up with Kent.
"I'll need you here at 23, Theora," Edison said. "Now that you have access to London's mainframe, would it be possible for you to find Alexander Burgess's file?"
"I don't see why not," Theora said. "I'll find it for you." Her hands moved to the keyboard in front of her, and she typed in the name ALEXANDER BURGESS while Murray and Edison looked on expectantly. Finally several results came up, and Theora opened the very first file. A man with intense leering blue eyes and an expression somewhere between a smirk and a grimace appeared on the screen, beside his name.
"The first Alexander Burgess on file is a government worker," Theora declared to anyone who would listen. "He has a job at the Gramodisc Archives in London."
"That can't be our seedy criminal," Murray muttered, but Theora stopped his doubts by reading more information aloud. "Apparently in his youth he was a very active criminal, and was arrested for murder at the age of fifteen. He was released back into society after undergoing a conditioning treatment that made him loathe violence. The treatment was called the Ludovico process."
She looked up and alternated glances between Edison and Murray. "I think we've found the right man."
"He's using young teenagers to carry out the violence that he can no longer enact," Edison stated, sucking in a breath. "Thank you for the information, Theora. I've got to go home and pack now."
"It won't be a long trip, will it?" Theora called as Edison turned to leave. Without throwing a glance over his shoulder, he shook his head. "You've got Alexander Burgess's home address right there on the screen. It shouldn't take long to drop in on him, with the help of the London Metrocops, and arrest him."
Theora and Murray exchanged a glance- they both could already tell that the affair wouldn't be as simple as all that. But Edison was now walking away, and Theora had just enough time to call playfully after him, "Aren't you going to say goodbye to us?"
Edison turned and began walking backwards. "Goodbye, dear Theora. I do hope you can manage without me."
"I'll be able to see everything your vidicam transmits," Theora reminded him. "You won't get away from me that easily, Mr. Carter!"
"Then there's no sense in saying goodbye, is there?" Edison shrugged and then turned the other way around once more, nearly bumping into an employee who was coming through the door. Theora hid her laughter behind her hand as Edison apologized, and just before he walked out completely she called, "Have fun arresting a criminal!"
"Have fun watching the broadcast!" was Edison's parting statement, and then he was gone. Murray walked away, sighing, while Theora excused herself to go to the viewphone. There was a vidchat that she needed to arrange.