"You don't see what you are do you?"

Jenna turned, looking into the crowd of well-wishers and posers for the voice. It was laced with laughter and deceit, yet intoxicating and arousing all at once. It was more the tone than the words that caused her to pay attention.

"No idea of your importance, or power. Truly a sad joke." At which the red haired twenty-something laughed softly. "If only you knew your true position. Father and his grand schemes, never filling everyone in. I guess the adage goes something like 'What you don't know won't hurt you'." Another smile followed by a laugh. "Except in your case, it will kill you." More laughter came, stronger now. Jenna was transfixed on each face muscle that contorted as the mysterious man continued to laugh.

"Great show. Can't wait to see you again," he finished, his red hair merging with the crowd. Jenna stood there, dumbstruck yet again, this time not as visibly as in the past few weeks. She had gotten used to the feeling. And that pissed her off more then anything.

The last three weeks replayed in her mind. Daphine's death, then Hazardous Sounds and MONDEX's bid war for the band. Leatherette or whatever her name was and her not so veiled threats followed by the first stranger to come by and share some insight. Jenna paused and replayed what the red haired man had said to her again. Jenna was getting really pissed at being talked at, and not to.

"Where did you go?" Jenna said aloud, searching for her mysterious soothsayer, who was nowhere to be found. She wondered if it had all been a trick.

METROPOLITAN: DCFS ŒHigher Implications pt 3 (of 3)¹ Written by: Alex 'BioHaz' Cook Edited by: Matthew 'Hawkeye' Pierce

When you've been through the kind of life the Power's That Be shafted me with, you tend to make friends with some of the lower element. One such friend of mine had just delivered a very special present: his findings after hacking into the MONDEX Mainframe.

Christ had raised the hairs on the back of my neck, but it was the old guy and his comments that pushed me to find out a bit more about Higher Implications' suitors. The old man said there were forces from all around pulling at her, the gifted. Weird shit, which I chalked up to some insane drugs.

I kept telling myself what a hell of a column this was going to make. Destroy any idea the Word had of assigning me to this shit again, and uncovering an evil corporation for what they were. This might be a Utopian society, but we still breed our share of fuck-ups.

Let's see, what can we find children. Why, what's this?

MEMO DATE: FEB, 50 SUBJECT: NEW TALENT FROM: CMALCOLM

Higher Implications is proving difficult to sign. Measures have been taken to ensure a quick result to this standoff. Jenna Hallowine seems to be undecided, which is sad because she is the one we really want.

Blah, Blah, Blah. Damn can he ramble! Basic gist of the MEMO was they wanted Jenna and they wanted her bad. Sweet contracts, and three record deals out the gate. Then I hit the next file.

MEMO DATE: APR, 49 SUBJECT: RELEASED TALENT FROM: SBRAVERMAN

Sliptied - RELEASED The band served their usefulness, and has been let go to make room for the next Gifted. Resources digested and redirected as well, commission and revenue already transferred to surplus accounts.

Short and sweet, so unlike Malcolm. Make room for the next gifted? Hmmm, what did you send me old friend.

There was a database in the mix, accompanying a few more memos about Higher Implication's contracts and what not. Once I opened it, I knew I had hit paydirt. A list of every artist and band released from their MONDEX contract in the last five years scrolled in front of my eyes. Then I noticed the dates. None of them lasted six months after signing. Few queries later, and its clear most of these bands were offered the same deal Higher Implications was.

It was obvious MONDEX was up to something. Time to go find some disgruntled ex-employees to tell me what.

I never even thought about the lack of information on Hazardous Sounds until it was too late.

*ihateithere*

"Your column is late Jerusalem!" Walker screamed into the phone, spittle raining down on his camera lens.

"Walker, we both know it isn't due for another six hours. Eight if I bypass you." I replied, calm as I continued to scan my newfound MONDEX computer files. This database had a lot to say.

"No fucking chance. This had better be worth it Spider, or its your ass." Walker shouted again, as if raising his voice would hurry me along. Fucker had no clue who he was dealing with

"Yes sir, Sergeant, sir. Is that all?" I was too busy to describe to him all the ways I was going to destroy him once I was done with this column. Walker just kind of stammered a yes statement; obviously surprised I didn't rise to his bait. "End call." I told the computer as I continued my research.

I reached over and played the camera's audio feed from earlier in the day, taken after I found the lead singer from Sliptied, Keith Paris.

"My name is Keith Paris, *COUGH* *COUGH* What the fuck do you want?" I glanced at the screen to my side to watch the slideshow of still images from the camera as well, downloaded and ready to peruse. Keith's face was scabbed with bumps, looking self-inflicted. Little scars here and there, Keith's fingernails obviously too long the day he lost track of time in the mirror after a good hit. The track marks were evident in his arm

"Spider Jerusalem, the Word. I was looking for some information on MONDEX?" I asked, hoping to touch a nerve with the name alone.

"Fuck you." Keith said and turned, hobbling back down the alley.

I caught up, the camera clicking away at Keith's departing form. "Listen, Keith, I'm here to find some dirt on MONDEX. Give me whatever you got."

Keith turned, looking at me with his one good eye. Acid straight to the retina can easily destroy the users sight and disfigure them as well, especially the alleyway crap these bums get, and not the government grade stuff the rest of us are used to. "What beef you got with MONDEX?" He asked.

"Let's just say the big bad corporation is about to stomp on someone I like." I said. "They fucked you over. Help me fuck them over"

Keith stopped, looking me dead in the eye. "MONDEX fucked me over. They promised us the world, and delivered us into hell. I'm the only one left. Brad bailed, and Sara didn't last too long. We made them a fucking mint, and they shoved us out to pasture. Severance pay they cut me each week barely covers the drugs they would pump me up with before a show, the drugs THEY fucking got me addicted to. As you can see", timed with a series of camera shots showing off Keith's gaunt frame, bones and skin being the majority of it. Fat never entered the picture, literally. "food is a luxury. All I wanted to do was sing, man, and they gave me the chance. If I knew the price, I'd have fucking cut out my vocal cords." Keith squinted with his good eye, flipped off the floating camera, and walked off again. I think I got about all I could from him.

As I sat in my living space, I realized I've got more then enough to nail these bastards to the wall.

*ihateithere*

As she sat in her living space, she realized she was about to be nailed to the wall. Every one seemed to have an opinion on what she should do, except her. Jenna thought it was time to find out a little bit more about what she wanted.

"Bout time you start asking some questions." A one eyed man said, a wolf's head hanging from a rope around his neck.

Jenna just fell back into her normal reaction this month, shocked. Eyes wide, mouth open, the whole nine yards. Flashes of light and then the appearance of someone who wasn't there before seemed to have that effect on people.

*ihateithere*

"You seem to have this effect on people Spider. You piss them off!" Walker screamed at me for the second time today. All right, kid gloves are off. Weapons check, fire at will.

"Listen up you under paid, over weight joke of an editor. I've had enough of your shit for today. There is your fucking article, signed, sealed, and delivered. It covers everything your 'syllabus' outlined, and its two hours ahead of schedule. You wanted a report on the music scene, there it is." I seethed into the phone, the cigarette in my mouth nearly falling to the ground.

"You've basically written that MONDEX, a high level record company, makes and breaks its own talent, and illegally redirects the funds back into itself, breaking about thirty Mediate rules off the top of my head. MONDEX has a clean record Spider, and this is mostly baseless hypothesis or hyperbole!" Walker replied, screaming for emphasis.

"That's what you always say Walker! Did you read the article? Did you hear Keith's testimony? What about Jasmine from Destiny's Abortion? She was in the middle of a fucking withdrawal you bastard! How about Dru from Mysterious Origins? Those pictures of his fucking stomach don't lie. MONDEX practically forced Corbin Nevero to shoot himself! Those bastards did it to them and I'm going to see them fucking hanged for it!"

"This is all so your little idol doesn't get stomped on by the big bad wolf, huh?" Walker asked, again baiting me.

"This goes far beyond Higher Implications. These people need to be stopped. That is what I do, I stop the evil the only way I can. I scream about it until enough Neanderthals like you understand what good and evil actually are!" My blood was boiling, my shouts echoing off the confined space I slept in each night.

"We're not running this Spider."

"Pull it and I'll have your job."

"You've got nothing here Spider. Not a single leg to stand on. I've got all the bargaining chips here, and you know not to push your luck. Your parole board is looking for a reason to throw your ass back in jail after the piece you wrote on their guards inside the prison colonies. Give me a reason to throw you to the dogs and I will." Walker finished, smirking into the viewscreen.

Initiate nuclear payload. Detonate.

"Editors are meant to be unbiased in their decisions in all aspects of their job correct? Including assignments. One of the two girls who I got into a bar room brawl with two weeks ago was seen at your apartment last night. In fact, she's been seen there for the past two months. Take a look." Pictures of the girl in questions licking what appeared to be whipped cream from in between Walker's toes flashed onto his viewscreen. "Certain parties have been informed that if my column doesn't see press tomorrow these pictures will be released to the Word executive board...all one hundred and thirteen of them. The investors will also receive these images, all fifty-seven of them. So in other words, don't run the column, and it will be you out in the street selling your ass to survive, not me."

Walker starred back at me in shock.

"And how the hell do you get an anaconda in there anyway?" I asked.

*ihateithere*

"You see now don't you? You see your place." The old man, Old One Eye, asked his latest charge, the latest bearer of the Gift.

The Gift to persuade.

"Yes, I do. I really do." Jenna sighed, the scene in front of her beautiful beyond description. Asgard's gates shined with a brilliance she would have never guessed possible. The World Tree pumped with life, ebbing over her, calling her. The Gods and Goddesses themselves gazed on her with love and acceptance in their eyes.

"Good." One Eye said, Ragnarock's chained form howling in the distance.

'I understand exactly where I fit now.' Jenna thought to herself, smiling, not because of her surroundings, but because of her newfound self worth.

*ihateithere*

It was the night after my column had run. I was out, happy as could be that I had Walker's balls in my hands, and I ended up saving someone important in the process. I had a few stops, pit areas to inject my body with some new intoxicant, and then I was on my way to see Higher Implications, and Jenna. I couldn't help but wonder if they had read the article...if she had read the article.

She walked out onto the stage by herself. Just a single spotlight shined on her as the curtain parted. She smiled, thanking everyone for his or her applause.

"I'd like to thank some one especially, tonight. I do think he is one of our hardcore fans, even if he claims to hate everyone." Jenna said, smiling out at the crowd. "Spider Jerusalem, we thank you. Not everyone hates you." I could have sworn she looked at me when she said the final part. I wish I could tell you I wasn't smiling as the curtain rose and Jenna walked back behind her two turntables.

None of the other band was with her. None of the equipment was hooked up, except Jenna's mixer, two tables, and relays to the club's sound system.

I sat there watching skies of beauty beyond comprehension. Engravings of legends and ancient fights. Valiant warriors and eternal peace. And for once, I didn't reject it as soon as I had in the past. It was almost as if the feelings were meant for me. A gift for me.

But reject it I did. I had to. I needed hate to continue to do what I do. To do what I did for Jenna. To protect her and the rest of you from what is really out there, I guess. I will never forget those images though.

*ihateithere*

"We'll never forget your help. As always, a job well done." The viewscreen said, the audio piped through hidden speakers in the walls of the ancient house.

"And, as always, thank you for a prompt transfer of funds." Leatherette replied, raising her glass in the air before sipping it.

"The money is meaningless in the long run. It's the talent I'm after. Besides, in the long run I threw them peanuts compared to what you charge. Money means nothing, but it is important for the beginning phases. Spend it wisely and it goes a long way. Thanks to your involvement and forcible play on words, I moved Jenna Hallowine right into my court."

"Ah yes, you and your campaign. You continue to gather your pieces, Ken. But who are you going to pit them against?" Leatherette asked Zoitis smoothly, enraged at the fact she had been played so easily, but never letting it show. Never show them your true face Leatherette always said.

"Now, Leatherette, that would be telling. We'll be talking soon enough. Good bye." Zoitis said, cutting the connection as his face faded into the Hazardous Sounds logo.

"Yes we will. Yes we will." Leatherette smiled, rising her cup once again. She drained its liquid, throwing the glass against the wall.

*ihateithere*

"Leatherette has been paid for services rendered. We're ready to start with Jenna now." Zoitis turned in his chair, looking at his father, Old One Eye, who sat in the executive chair drinking from a large mead cup. "She will be asking questions soon, but I don't see her being a real threat."

"Good, Loki, good." One Eye said, watching his son drop his mortal guise. Plans were moving along nicely. Odin was going to play this game different this time.

*ihateithere*

In the end, who is the lesser of the two evils? The one paying more, or the one paying less?