"So," Cheviot stated gravely as he surveyed the six members of Network 23's executive board, "it turned out to be a wise decision to phone Grossberg and inquire about his new program."
"Not that we got anything out of it," Lauren spoke up. She propped herself up with her elbow and gazed at Cheviot with a thinly-veiled challenge in her eyes. "As I said you wouldn't."
Cheviot ignored the blow. "At least we discovered the program is called Zoo TV…"
"And Grossberg bought it from the Devil Himself," Ashwell piped up.
There was an uneasy silence following that statement, as the board thought back to the call that they had all been privy to. Moments after Cheviot had dialed the number, Grossberg's smug mug had lit up the screen before them, obviously delighted that his program had garnered enough attention to warner a call from his rival network. "Let it all out, Cheviot," he declared as soon as Cheviot's face appeared onscreen. "I know what you're calling me for, and let me tell you, I'm not selling it."
"I'm not calling to inquire about a purchase," Cheviot replied, his expression firm. "I simply wanted to know what it is."
"It's a program called Zoo TV, and it's about to rock the world," Grossberg said. "And no one can replicate it. For higher ratings, I'm afraid you'll have to look elsewhere."
"Where did you get this program?" Cheviot asked, wanting to remain civil but unable to stop thinking about how Grossberg had once been his superior. Once upon a time he had looked up to this man… Now he saw him for the slime that he really was.
"I made a deal with the Devil, Cheviot." Grossberg smiled infuriatingly and jerked his chin out. "It's not something I'd think Network 23 were likely to do."
Besides that scrap of non-information, no one on the executive board had gotten concrete facts out of Grossberg, and so their meeting today was called to sit and wait for the inevitable. Cheviot turned on the ratings chart, and a small murmur of disappointment rippled across the room. Network 23, while still popular, was easily overshadowed by Network 66, who was running away with the ratings. It didn't even matter that Network 23 was in third place- 66's ratings were so high that it eclipsed everyone, even in the hours when Zoo TV was not broadcasting.
So of course it came as no surprise when a collect call came in from New Tokyo, leaving a deadly serious Ped Xing, head of Zik Zak Enterprises, threatening in his cultured voice to pull Zik Zak's advertisements from the air and leave Network 23 hanging without a sponsor. "Unless you find a way to get back to number one by the end of the day," he murmured, and the air was so cold that it felt as if his presence was in the room, "Zik Zak can and will bail. We expect more from such a top network."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," Cheviot sighed after the somber call ended. "Edwards, call Bryce and get to developing a substitute Zoo TV program- immediately."
"But isn't that fighting fire with fire?" Lauren spoke up, always opposed, but this time having a point. "Having Edison Carter do an expose on Zoo TV would produce similar results."
"Lauren, we don't yet know that it needs an expose," Cheviot said gently.
"After what his team found last night, I'd say it does," Tessier argued.
What his team found last night. Cheviot sat back and thought, remembering how Murray had called upstairs to inform him of the content of Zoo TV's subliminal messages. They made people irritable, he said. Not only did they hook people into watching further, with the message Watch More TV, but they also sparked a potentially lethal combination of aggression and prestige. Under the influence of such emotions, anyone could turn into a ticking time bomb, just waiting to attack someone. If anything, Murray had added, because it was far too early to predict any concrete happenings, the crime rate would go up.
The findings were indeed dangerous, but as there had not yet been a sign of violent outbreak from any of those thousands of Zoo TV viewers, Cheviot knew that he would have to make the unpopular decision to imitate Zoo TV as much as possible. He settled back in his seat and shook his head. "You're telling me that there could be a risk to human lives, but I'd argue the risk to our network is greater. There are worse repercussions that we have to deal with- you don't want to be out of a job or out of house and home, do you Tessier?" Tessier shrugged and looked down at the table's surface before him, subdued.
"I'm sorry, everyone," Cheviot said, gazing from face to face across the board. "But this game we're playing is important, and we must come out as victors. We have to produce a duplicate of Zoo TV and get it on the air before Zik Zak pulls their sponsorship."
Lauren was the first to speak up, and Cheviot expected her to try and continue the argument, but the words that came out of her mouth surprised him instead. "Grossberg said it was impossible to replicate. I say we track down whoever created the program and get him- or her- to sell to us."
Cheviot blinked as all heads turned in Lauren's direction.
His hand slowly moved towards the viewphone's dials.
Now be a good girl and enjoy yourself. That was what MacPhisto had said after kissing Frances on the head and before leaving the house to go out to some bar, locking the door after himself. Frances knew it was a bar he was going to, instead of something related to his job as a musician or as a crack TV salesman, but she never pointed this out to MacPhisto. He wouldn't have liked to hear it. Once she was sure he was gone, she sighed and crossed her legs, looking down at herself in embarrassment. MacPhisto had let her get dressed, at least, before handcuffing her to the bed. If anyone called on the viewphone Frances would be able to handle it. But it bothered her that MacPhisto had told her to enjoy herself, when that wasn't at all what she could do here.
Normally Frances would spend the day napping or watching TV, though with a passionate hatred. But today, she did neither. Instead she flopped on her back and let out a sigh, trying to tune out the music that Zoo TV was blaring in its morning block spot. Just a few more minutes, and then it's off the air… If only the TV was turned to a more agreeable channel, something like… Network 23. But now that MacPhisto had sold his program to 66, he wouldn't let the rival channel be turned on in his household.
Network 23… Frances closed her eyes and let out another sigh, this one transforming into something less futile and more pleasant. She remembered the times she had watched the channel, just a few months ago. Their programming was top-notch, of course, full of edge-of-your-seat action from one moment to the next, and Frances had enjoyed pretty much everything they broadcast. Her very favorite program, however, was The Edison Carter Show: What I Want To Know. She'd started following Edison when he was tracking gang activity in the city, and had watched every subsequent broadcast up to the one aired the day before, for she had been running errands for MacPhisto and didn't have time to stop and watch TV. Now that MacPhisto had forbade her from doing so, it looked as if she would never see that wonderful show again.
But it was all Frances wanted to see. Ever since MacPhisto had found her selling herself on the streets and had given her a new life, a new sense of purpose, she had deluded herself into believing that he was truly in love with her and she him. Her feelings towards him had waned over time, though, and eventually it became clear that MacPhisto just wanted her for sex, just like her old customers. He wanted someone to tell him what his greatest achievements were, someone to make him look fabulous in public, like a trophy wife. No, not even that- Frances was MacPhisto's trophy. She served no purpose for him other than to impress people with. And she hated herself for it.
Interestingly enough, Frances' realization that she no longer loved MacPhisto coincided with the same week she had started watching Network 23. She had first seen the Edison Carter Show with a bruised and needy heart, and it was this heart that latched onto Edison himself as he searched for the members of the boy gang. To see someone so resolutely devoted to unveiling the world's seedier side, to bringing justice to those who deserved it, filled Frances with hope. If he knew I existed, she often thought to herself, he would work hard to make sure I got a better life. And so it was Edison she watched for out of the corner of her eyes when walking through the crowded Fringes, Edison she imagined sometimes when MacPhisto kissed her, Edison whom she fantasized about walking through the door one day and unlocking her handcuffs. He was, to use an obsolete term, her knight in shining armor- even though they hadn't met yet. But when they did meet, Frances knew that he would save her.
She closed her eyes and began to daydream, to live out the great fantasy in her head, and ended up dozing off for a bit… only to be awakened by a series of beeps coming from the viewphone. Frances sat up immediately, forgetting that she was wearing handcuffs, and her wrists protested viciously as she tried to force them into a position that they would not go into. A light was blinking on the viewphone beside the bed- someone was calling. The music that Frances had fallen asleep to had given way to Network 66's usual daily programming. For a few moments all Frances could do was stare fearfully at the viewphone, before telling herself that whoever was calling was either MacPhisto or an associate, and the least she could do was tell them that her master was out for the day. She sat all the way up, straightening her back, and reached out to discreetly press the button that would answer the call with her toes, before awkwardly wriggling into a position that would hide the handcuffs on her wrists and also provide her with comfort.
A familiar face filled up the screen. "Hello." And Frances nearly screamed with shock. The man she had last been thinking about, Edison Carter, was calling MacPhisto's abode! Had her prayers and dreams finally been answered?
"Hello…" Frances managed to spit out uncertainly, unable to gaze away from those dazzling blue eyes. It was exactly the face she knew from TV, only this time Edison was talking directly to her and no one else.
"Are you the man who goes by Mr. MacPhisto?"
This question was so unexpected that it threw Frances off for a few moments. No, she wasn't MacPhisto and she wasn't a man. Where would Edison ever get that ide- Then without looking down at herself, she remembered what clothing she had worn to MacPhisto's home the night before, and what clothing he had thrown at her in the morning and in which he expected her to dress herself. Garbed in a man's suit and binder for her breasts, with shorn short hair and an androgynous face to add to the illusion, it was easy for anyone to mistake Frances' gender. That had been the whole point.
And suddenly, Frances desired with a violent longing to be someone else for a moment, to use MacPhisto's authority to find out what Edison wanted. Why shouldn't she be MacPhisto? She slouched forward, ignoring the warning tug of the handcuffs, and put on her least-interested, squinty-eyed face. "Why, are you looking for him?" she asked, using her deepest, most gravelly voice.
"As a matter of fact I am," Edison replied, unfazed. "Do you know where he is?"
A smile broke the corners of Frances' face as she replied, "Right in front of you, darling." Not only was it appropriate to use some of MacPhisto's mannerisms, but it also gave Frances a deep satisfaction to use terms of endearment on Edison.
"MacPhisto-" For a second Edison paused, and Frances' heartbeat sped up, at once afraid that her disguise had been seen through. But he continued with, "I'm Edison Carter, a reporter from Network 23. We at 23 have seen your program on Network 66, and the executives would like to arrange a transaction."
"A transaction?" Frances said, raising one eyebrow. "Why, what do you mean?"
"They're looking to buy Zoo TV," Edison told her seriously, and Frances' heart skipped a beat. Network 23 to buy Zoo TV! But that would mean selling out. And not only selling out, but the negative effects of the program would also reach broader audiences and conspire to cause a revolution to arise. That, as far as Frances could figure out, was part of MacPhisto's mass plan, and try as she might to pretend that Zoo TV was a harmless muvid program there was still something deep within her gut that told her this was wrong, wrong, wrong.
"And?" Frances said, just barely managing not to stutter, when she saw how Edison was unresponsive.
"And before they can do that, I'll need to ask you a few questions first," he said.
Questions. So Edison too had picked up on the potentially harmful side effects of Zoo TV and wanted to shut it down, despite his network's wishes, before it got out of hand. Part of Frances' soul surged with admiration for her knight, while another part of her remained in control of a MacPhisto guise. "Sure thing, darling," she purred airily. "I'll make an appointment at a bar downtown, where we can shoot the breeze. Where and when would you like to go?" It seemed like a MacPhisto sort of thing to do, to flaunt his wealth in public instead of agreeing to an interview over the 'phone. The only problem, however, would be getting enough money to spend on drinks and getting out of the house itself…
Onscreen, Edison's brow furrowed. "I was thinking we could conduct the interview over the viewphone."
"Nonsense." Frances waved her hand. "It's better that we meet in person. It'll be my treat."
Edison's eyes took on a wary look, but he slowly nodded. "All right. I'll meet you for lunch in an hour. Does the Sidewalk Café sound good to you?"
"Of course," Frances said, her mind frantically trying to work out how far away that was an how soon she could get back. "See you in a bit, darling." Edison disconnected the line, and Frances immediately fell back against the bed, breathing hard.
She couldn't believe what she had gotten herself into- a date with Edison Carter himself, who was under the impression that she was the creator of Zoo TV! There was only one aim that Frances could see for herself, and that was to tell Edison a minute after he arrived at the café that she wasn't who he thought she was. She needed to inform him all about MacPhisto's bad deeds, such as holding her in his house every day against her will and trying to incite a revolution. And maybe he would do a story on it, and rescue her, just like Frances had always hoped.
The only problem was how to get out of her bonds that kept her to the bed, but Frances didn't think it would be so hard. If she could do that, she had the rest of the day made, for she knew where MacPhisto kept the money in the house. Unless he had changed the location since the first time she had been caught pinching from it… but there were only so many places to hide such a thing. If anything, the money was probably lining the walls at this moment.
Even in a dreamless sleep, strange words pulsed behind Bryce's eyelids, transforming one by one into a phrase. ENJOY… THE… SURFACE. ENJOY THE SURFACE. Enjoy the surface.
Bryce then woke up with a sudden start, called to attention by a female voice rasping in his ear. "Wh- what?" he mumbled, reaching out awkwardly for his glasses. Someone slid them into his hand, and Bryce put them on to find Tina standing above him, her expression inquisitive.
"It's time to get up, Bryce," she murmured. "You don't want to be late for work."
"Oh… work." It seemed like a million miles away to Bryce. "Thanks for waking me, Tina."
Tina smiled, nodded, and pressed a kiss to Bryce's forehead before walking out of the guest bedroom. Bryce watched her go, his mind turning. He didn't remember falling asleep in this bed, though it was usually where he slept when he was at Tina's apartment. He must have been too tired to cuddle the night before, because the last thing he remembered was sitting on Tina's bed with her arms around him, sharing the heat of her body and gently exploring her mouth. Any acts further than that would have been inappropriate, which Tina knew and Bryce was grateful for. He figured that maybe someday they would feel comfortable enough to make love properly, but that was a long way in the future, and Bryce felt content waiting.
Enjoy the surface. The phrase came rushing back to Bryce, and he shook his head to dispel it from his ears, honing in on the sound of Network 23's morning news broadcasting in the other room. Tina was a good network employee and always left the TV on their channel. Slowly, Bryce dragged himself out of bed and got to his feet, going over to the wardrobe in the corner of the room where he had temporarily unpacked some spare clothes for the duration of his stay at Tina's. He began to mechanically dress himself, the phrase from his sleep tumbling through his thoughts all the while.
For a few moments Bryce was given to existential introspection, a task that he hardly ever performed. Computers would usually fry their chips if they attempted to understand the deeper meanings of life, but Bryce had learned before that he was no computer and thus was prone to moments like these, especially when strange phrases such as enjoy the surface were on hand. What exactly was the surface- what one saw on the outside? And people did tend to enjoy that far more than what was on the inside. The children's TV show Missile Mike, for example, excited kids with what looked like the antics of a badass crimefighter, but raised interesting questions about morality and ethics when his penchant for brazenly blowing up buildings with no thought for the lives of the humans inside were taken into account. And Zoo TV, on the surface, appeared to be an innovative muvid channel, but was actually far more dangerous than it appeared.
The surface, Bryce reflected as he pulled on his pants, was always deceiving, sometimes in real life as well as on TV. And that led him to wonder what people would see on the surface of his relationship with Tina. They would see romance, but beneath that there was a four-year age difference. Beneath that, Tina was legal and Bryce was a minor. Some could interpret their relationship wrongly. And mentally, it could be argued that Bryce was more mature than Tina, on the basis of his superior intellect… though Bryce didn't feel very mature.
And when Tina looked at Bryce, did she enjoy him simply for the surface? Did she look at him and think of him as a young kid from whom it was easy to take advantage? Likewise… Bryce suddenly wanted to stop the thought right there, but he couldn't get his mind to shut up. Likewise, the surface of Tina was beauty and lipstick and pretty clothes, which was probably why Bryce enjoyed her. Was there really any true romance in their relationship at all?
Two halves of Bryce warred with each other, competing for the truth. One side of Bryce, the emotion-driven side, told him that there was no way that was true, that he loved Tina for her entire being and she loved him the same way in return. But a more logical side of him informed him that this was his first relationship, indeed the first time he had ever experienced romantic love, and he wouldn't know for sure what was acceptable. Perhaps he wasn't in love with Tina at all. Perhaps this emotion was something entirely different from the romance that everyone talked about in hushed, dreamy tones.
And who was to say that Tina was anyone special? Couldn't it have just as easily been Theora?, Bryce mused. Or Jenny? He knew that he was attracted to females, but beyond that he had no idea how to feel in response to their advances.
"About time you got up and smelled the coffee," Tina laughed as Bryce wandered into the room, the rich scent permeating the air. "Come on, have a sip. It'll make you stay awake longer!"
"Thank you," Bryce mumbled as he sat down at her kitchen table and stared at her, trying to decide if he was really attracted to her or not. "But stimulants don't really mix well with me."
Similar words flew around in Edison's sleeping brain like a storm of bees attacking him. MOCK… He rolled over, restless in bed. THE… DEVIL… AND… The TV blared, and the murky sensation of being unable to tell sleeping from wakefulness polluted his head. HE… WILL… FLEE… FROM… THEE.
Edison's eyes cracked open, and he groaned as the world oriented itself correctly, still seeing the text flash up before his eyes. Mock the Devil and he will flee from thee. Yesterday the Zoo TV slogan had seemed like a threat, but in the cool morning air the phrase only seemed to make a special kind of sense. To mock the Devil was to make light of a person or situation that was, in fact, completely and utterly serious. It was like joking about the nuclear holocaust that everyone had learned about in school and then never spoke of again. It was like broadcasting painful and intrusive images for the purpose of titillating entertainment.
"For our entertainment," Edison mumbled towards the TV's indistinct noise, and was mildly surprise when it didn't respond to him. Thoughts waddled their way into his head and seated themselves, refusing to budge. Was what he did for a living mocking the Devil? There had been countless times in the past when Edison had been charged with a difficult assignment, one that required him to film scenes that would almost seem exploitative to the viewing audience… but they weren't exploitative, because Edison had more taste and tact than that…
But when he pointed out the injustices of the world, what did anyone do to fix that? Sure, some criminals got their comeuppance from time to time, but sometimes it just felt like pointing fingers (or rather camera lenses) and laughing. What was he, Edison Carter, doing to help the underprivileged members of society? Exposing their plights to the jaded viewing audience, and then leaving them to fend for themselves while he went back to the Network 23 skyscraper and got paid for his trouble, his mind already turning towards details of the next story. Out of sight, out of mind.
At once Edison found he was mouthing the words I won't play the ratings game over and over, and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling and think. By exposing the part of society that people would rather not think about, he was doing the world a good deed, but he was also warding off his own demons- mock the Devil and he will flee from thee. He told himself that simply broadcasting on network TV was enough coverage necessary, but what did he expect global viewers to do about it? Did anyone really care what he had to say- what he wanted to know?
Slowly, the bitter taste of apathy began to set in, and the small part of Edison's mind that still valiantly reminded him what he was fighting for was gradually drowned out. He was far gone, lost in his head, when someone called on the viewphone.
As Theora slept with Kent beside her in bed, she saw letters appear in her inner vision, transforming into words and then to phrases. REJECT YOUR WEAKNESSES.
"Reject-" Her eyes popped open with a start, revealing a blank white ceiling. There were no phrases to be seen anywhere, and the only sound she heard was that of the TV's morning chatter, though a few moments ago she could have sworn she heard electric guitar.
Theora blinked and waited for her to get her bearings. Once she remembered who she was, where she was, and what she had done the day before, she rolled over and reached out to touch Kent, who lay bare in bed a few centimeters away from her. He didn't stir at her touch, sprawled out on his stomach with his arms pillowing his head, but Theora stroked him again and felt a smile curving her lips. She leaned in close and threw an arm around him, breathing into his ear. This time Kent did twitch a bit, and Theora pulled back to observe her lover awakening from deep warm sleep.
"Good morning," she said as Kent's brown eyes blinked open, and a voice inside her head whispered Reject your weaknesses.
"Morning," Kent mumbled, his eyes falling shut. Theora bit back a giggle and then twisted her body back to the other side of the bed, checking the nearest digital clock. A sigh fell from her lips- it was about time for Kent to be going. She turned back to him and pressed the palm of her hand to his face, causing his eyes to reopen.
"You need to get up now," Theora murmured, but the statement sounded less like a warning and more like the coo of a dove. "You have to get down to the shop in half an hour."
"Must I?" Kent sighed, then reached out a hand and patted Theora. "Just five more minutes..."
Theora shook her head, though it was not what she wanted to do, and leaned in to press a single kiss to Kent's forehead. At least once he was gone, she thought, she would have a few more minutes to sleep.
As Kent slowly and groggily got himself out of bed and into some clothes, Theora flopped onto her back and thought, musing over the phrase she had seen in her dream. Reject your weaknesses. Certainly it was good advice. If one refused to allow the burdens of life to bog them down, one could achieve anything. And if one ignored the opposition facing them… if one worked around their fears and everything that told them one would never rise high in the world… one would more easily accomplish what one wanted the most.
It was, indeed, good advice for her to take to heart, Theora thought as she lay there. Even though she was highly praised as being the best controller in the field of the present age, and even though her coworkers highly respected her, Theora had never really felt that she belonged in the trade. She loved her work, both at World One and Network 23, and wouldn't have preferred going into any other profession, but at the same time there had always been a prevalent, if unspoken, admission that women weren't respected as highly as men were when working on the news. Though there were a handful of female reporters in the field- Janie Crane for one and Angela Barry for another- it was usually the men who got all the glory, while the women tended to stay behind at Control. And sometimes men handled the job of controller and were praised more highly for it. In terms of her standing amongst her peers, Theora Jones was in a league of her own.
At times this thought could be exciting, but occasionally Theora felt alone at the top of the class, alienated from the rest of the controllers at Network 23. She felt that being a rarity, a woman in one of the highest-paying jobs in the country, wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The men she had worked for, Edison Carter specifically, had seemed to take it for granted that she was into them and would sleep with them if they just said the word. Even Murray had made no secret of the fact that getting involved with a famous reporter would advance Theora's career. But Theora knew that in order to do that, she would have to help herself. She refused to further her career immorally. Besides, as everyone said, it took two to tango, and Theora couldn't imagine playing with anyone's feelings just to get herself into a better position. This especially went for Edison, whose interest in Theora often seemed to her to go beyond the physical- but she had never really talked to him about it before.
And so it became necessary for Theora to reject her weaknesses- to deny everything that brought her down in the eyes of her coworkers, to ignore the sidelong glances and hidden snickers that told her they were waiting for her to slip up. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she thought about it- how she wouldn't work in spite of her weaknesses, but rather ignore that they were even there. Theora was determined to rise up, to clutch at the power she knew she deserved. To regain some of that heady brew that she had tasted the day before when watching Zoo TV.
REJECT YOUR WEAKNESSES. Yes, that was the slogan that made her heart beat fast.
Kent spoiled the moment then by leaning in, and their lips brushed roughly against each other. "See you," he whispered.
"Goodbye, Kent." Theora settled into bed and watched Kent slip out of the door. Her eyes began to flutter shut. Just half an hour was all she had till she had to be up and at it, and she was determined to make the most of it by sleeping. Besides, she had set an alarm.
However, Theora only managed to get in a good minute of rest before the viewphone by her bed issues several beeps. Her eyes popped open wide, and she rolled onto her side, pulling the sheets up tightly so that everything bare below her neck was obscured from the caller. Before answering, Theora had a sinking feeling that the caller was Edison, or someone else related to work. Who else would call her this early in the morning?
"Theora." The face on the other end was in fact none other than Edison, as shirtless as she was, though he did nothing to hide it.
"What is it?" Theora asked, and her words came out as a croak. She swallowed hard to wet her throat and repeated the query.
"Murray wants us in early," Edison explained. "He didn't tell me why- said he didn't want to ruin my morning." He chuckled and then sighed, running his fingers through his light hair.
"I'll be on my way," Theora replied. "Thank you for calling." Edison nodded and then disconnected. Theora lay back against the pillows, her mind spinning, trying to work up the urge to heave herself up from the engulfing bed. What was this call about, she wondered- had there been an advance in the budding story about Zoo TV? Zoo TV… The words she had seen in her dreams, REJECT YOUR WEAKNESSES, bounced around inside her head and gave her the strength she needed to stand up and face the day, wherein they disappeared, popping like soap bubbles as Theora's vision went black due to a quick head rush.
Down at Network 23, Edison hardly waited for Theora to come in and take her seat at her monitor before turning to Murray and asking him, with a slight edge in his voice, "So Murray, what's going on? What couldn't you tell me over the 'phone?"
"You're not going to like it any more in person," Murray sighed. "But it's a bomb that's got to be dropped. Cheviot's orders have come in to track down the person who created Zoo TV. He wants us to buy the program for our network."
A brief pregnant pause followed, and Theora held her breath until Edison spat a harsh, "What?"
"Look, I knew you wouldn't like it," Murray cut in quickly. "But you've got to quit whining. This is what our network executive has ordered, we can't just ignore that."
"Whining?" Edison retorted indignantly. "This isn't whining, Murray, this is being reasonable!"
"Re-Re-Reasonable?!" Max blurted from a nearby screen. "What's reasonable is giving me- me- ME!- more airtime. N-n-not installing a whole new p-program!"
"I'm afraid," Theora began quietly, "that I have to support Edison and Max here." Or rather Edison and Edison 2.0. "It seems counterproductive to fight fire with fire. If Network 66 is using potentially harmful messages, we'd be just as bad as them by using the same."
"We'd be sinking to their level," Edison muttered. Murray glanced over to give him a warning look.
"This decision was made by the head of our network," he reminded Edison, Max, and Theora. "No one's going to ignore our superiors. If we adopt Zoo TV, it means that you can't expose Network 66, because it will make us look bad."
"Ah-Ah-Ah!" Max exclaimed in disgust. "Well that takes the f-f-fun out of everything!" He vanished.
"But this is immoral-" Edison began to protest, but Murray stopped him in his tracks. "Don't argue. I'm sorry that you feel this way, but you're gonna have to suck it up."
"All right then," Theora sighed, turning back to her monitor. "There's got to be a high amount of potential stories out there, none of which involve Zoo TV."
"Oh, you know that junk is just mocking the Devil," Edison growled. "We'd actually be doing something if we take on Zoo TV."
Theora swiveled her neck around to stare at Edison. "Mocking the Devil?"
"Well, no one's going to complain anymore," Murray said, using his most authoritative voice. "Bryce is already tracing Network 66's transactions in order to find out where Zoo TV came from. We should be hearing something very shortly- Cheviot wants us to call the creator, you know," he said as he came over towards the monitor and peered at its startup screen. "Don't ask me why. We'll talk to the person who sold Zoo TV, and then that will be that."
But Theora suspected that Murray knew that in Edison's mind, that would most definitely not be that.
The number was dialed, and in a few seconds Jenny's youthful face filled the screen, blinking out at her caller. "Well, if it isn't Bryce Lynch!"
"Hi, Jenny," Bryce said, feeling his heartbeat relax as he did so. After Tina had brought him into work he had felt vaguely tense all morning, and was relieved to get an assignment and talk to an old friend. "I need some facts."
"You're not getting any info out of me until you explain what you've been up to recently," Jenny said. "How are you? We haven't talk since… the last time you wanted information." She grinned ruefully, and Bryce found himself smiling back.
"I'm fine," he said. "Thanks for the flowers you sent when I was in the medcen."
"No problemo," Jenny replied. "I saw the broadcast of You The Jury- hope you're doing well now." She spoke unsurely and delicate, having heard what Alex had done to Bryce but not sure if it was wise to mention it.
"I'm fine," Bryce repeated. "Tina's been taking good care of me."
One eyebrow arched- that was a special trick of Jenny's that Bryce had always envied but never been able to replicate. "And who is this 'Tina?'"
"My girlfriend," Bryce replied nonchalantly, as if he was talking about the weather. To him, the news wasn't a big deal.
However, Jenny's right eyebrow flew up to meet her left, and she exclaimed with wonder. "Bryce, you have a girlfriend? And you didn't immediately tell me?"
"It wasn't all that important," Bryce said, though in actuality the thought of informing Jenny had never crossed his mind. Besides, the strange and confusing feelings regarding Tina that had set in that morning were still prominent in his heart, and he began to think perhaps it wasn't that important anyway.
"Well, of course it's important to inform an old friend," Jenny chided. "Come on, Bryce, tell me about 'er. What's she like?"
"She's pretty," Bryce said dispassionately, seeing Tina's lovely face float about his eyes and evaluating her in a matter of seconds. "She's smart for a controller and she's funny, too." Seeing Jenny's incredulous smile and knowing that she was about to continue her interrogation, he changed the subject quickly. "Jenny, I don't have all day. Just tell me what you know about Zoo TV."
"Zoo TV?" At once Jenny's features changed from those of open humor to those of dark seriousness. "Why didn't you mention it? It was only a matter of time before Network 23 wanted to get their hands on Zoo TV."
Bryce shrugged. "You know how it is with professional competition. They're always trying to outdo the others. Anyway, can you tell me where you got Zoo TV? Apparently Cheviot called Grossberg, and he claimed to have made a 'deal with the Devil,' but that doesn't make logical sense."
"Actually, if you'd seen the guy it would," Jenny sighed, her expression turning grave. "Grossberg purchased Zoo TV from an executive named MacPhisto. At least, he said he was an executive, but I caught a glimpse of him and he didn't look like any executive to me. He was wearing a gold suit and shoes with glitter on them, and he had on white makeup and lipstick and- here's where the Devil part comes in- he was wearing a pair of red horns."
"Hm," Bryce said, composing a grinning, devilish face in his mind based on Jenny's description. "Sounds eccentric to me."
"He looked pretty eccentric," Jenny agreed. "And the program's nearly indecipherable."
Cautiously, Bryce asked, "You do know that there are hidden messages in it, right?"
"Of course." She gave him a what-do-you-think-I-am-an-amateur look. "It was easy enough to figure out once I'd reviewed the program. Grossberg didn't want me to mention it to anyone else, though. I think his inner circle and I are the only ones at 66 who know about it."
"Do you know what the messages are supposed to do?" Bryce asked. "I analyzed the footage yesterday with Theora and Edison, and it had profound effects on us."
Jenny asked what sort of effects Zoo TV had caused, and Bryce detailed each emotion- how he had felt exhilarated and euphoric, how Theora had claimed to feel stronger and more powerful than ever before, and how Edison had grown pessimistic and apathetic, refusing to explore the program any more. Worry began to saturate Jenny's face the more she listened, until finally she said, "Bryce, this isn't good. I need to know, did the messages have any lingering effects?"
Bryce thought for a few moments, and was about to blurt out "No" when suddenly he remembered the morning, and his dreams. Amongst the usual blankness had been those scrolling words- ENJOY THE SURFACE, which then had stayed in his mind after he woke up. It was these words that had hung in his head all morning and caused him to question his romance for Tina.
"They might," he said slowly, and then- "Jenny, can I talk to you about something?"
Surprise colored her voice. "Sure… what's on your mind?"
Instead of answering right away, Bryce sat back and folded his arms, scrutinizing Jenny's facial expressions. Could he feel for her the exact same tender affection that he had felt for Tina? Was this love, or just a friendly maneuver?
"Do you… like me?" he asked.
"Of course I like you, Bryce." Jenny gave an exasperated sigh. "We're friends, aren't we?"
"I don't mean it like that." Bryce continued to scrutinize her. "I mean, do you like me?"
"What are you getting at?"
"You know. Not just 'like.' Like… like like."
"Are you trying to ask if I love you?" Jenny said skeptically.
"Yes," said Bryce, relieved that she had finally put the pieces together. "Like that."
"No, I don't." There was a teasing tone in her voice. "I haven't felt like that since we were at ACS together."
"Right…" The revelation that Jenny had once like liked Bryce was hardly surprising to him. "That's kid stuff. A…"
"A schoolgirl crush." Jenny giggled. "You shouldn't be afraid of hurting my feelings if you're with another woman now."
Woman… Though Bryce knew that the term applied to Tina, he still didn't like thinking of her as someone older, more mature than him. He tried to get back on track. "That's not what I was thinking about."
"Oh? What were you thinking about?" A small testy pout appeared on Jenny's lips. "You know, I'm a busy person, Bryce- I can't keep postponing my work for you."
"I understand." Bryce gave a brief nod. 'But Jenny… if I were to, I don't know, tell you that I like you in the way I like T- I mean, in the way I mentioned… would you… want to be with me?"
Jenny assessed the imaginary situation, and then answered, "Perhaps."
"Then should I be with you instead of Tina?" Bryce asked, and Jenny threw him an are-you-kidding look. "Bryce, emotion doesn't work that way. If you like Tina, you can't just decide to like me based on some old crush I had."
"That's the thing," Bryce said. "I'm not sure if I like Tina."
Jenny stared out at the old friend on her screen, and realized that Bryce was struggling with his first relationship, with comprehending these emotions which he had never experienced before. And she couldn't give him any advice, as she had never been in a relationship either, but she was more in tune with her emotions than Bryce was and knew what one should say in this situation. She lowered her voice and spoke warmly, calmingly.
"Bryce, I'm no expert but I think you should talk to Tina about how you feel. I'm sure you'll be able to work something out."
"Yeah… I guess I should," he said, resigned. "Thanks for the advice, Jenny. And thanks for the data."
"Thank you for calling," Jenny replied smugly, and disconnected. Bryce sat there staring at the screen for a few moments more before punching in the numbers to dial downstairs, to connect with Edison's team.
"The person who created Zoo TV is named Mr. MacPhisto," Bryce said to the audience of three who surrounded the viewphone. "No first name was given. Grossberg is aware that the program contains subliminal messages, but he won't allow anyone else except his board of executives to know that. Apparently it's a very hush-hush deal."
"I see," Murray said slowly. "Thank you, Bryce."
"No problemo." With that, the viewphone disconnected, and Edison stared down at Theora, whose fingers were already flying across the typewriter keys of her monitor. "I'll search the city's database for him," she said. "With luck, we'll find the right person."
"MacPhisto," Edison snorted. "What kind of a name is that?"
"His name, I suppose." Theora entered her search and watched as files began appearing onscreen. Edison shot her a look of playful exasperation. "That's kind of obvious." He slid into place behind her shoulder and studied the search's yield. "There's only three names…"
"David Edge, Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen," Theora read aloud. "I suppose the name 'MacPhisto' is a pseudonym." But for which man? She opened the first file and began reading quietly to herself, before relaying the relevant information to Edison. "It says here that this man is in a local band called The Hype, playing guitar under the name Reggie the Dog. Apparently performs with Adam Clayton, the Cat That Got the Cream, and Larry Mullen, who doesn't appear to have a stage name…" She read on and her heartbeat skipped. "And a man known as Mr. MacPhisto!"
"Try the link to his file," Edison urged, and Theora did so. After a few seconds of waiting, they were presented with this notice-
ERROR
The page you have been trying to reach does not exist. It has never existed.
Please click the link below to redirect you to the previous page. Thank you.
"A Blank?" Theora murmured. "He didn't do a very good job of it if so. There's still cross-references in his friends' files."
"Maybe he has a file under his real name," Edison suggested. Theora went back to the previous page on David Edge and switched positions, crossing one leg over the other. "A message like the one we just saw would not appear if his file was under a different name. It would redirect us to his file, not claim that no such file exists."
"Damn…" Edison muttered, hanging his head. "Well, it looks like there's no way to track down this MacPhisto guy." He looked up and made eye contact with Murray, who was a few meters away from the monitor. "Hey, Murray, I hate to disappoint the big boys upstairs but this MacPhisto is virtually untraceable."
Murray came over and joined Theora at her monitor, watching as she demonstrated the lack of results. When the Error page showed up, he drew in a breath. "He's been blanked. That puts a damper on everything…"
"It's not like we have anything to lose by not gaining Zoo TV," Edison said. "In fact, I think we're better off without it."
Murray shook his head. "Actually, there's something I didn't mention to you."
"What?" Theora turned around in her seat to face Murray, and saw the guilt flash in his eyes. Something important had slipped his mind, and now he knew he had to pay for it.
Edison echoed Theora. "What is it, Murray? You're going to be out of a job if we don't obtain Zoo TV?"
"No," Murray said gravely. "It's more serious than that. Zik Zak is going to pull their sponsorship unless we manage to buy Zoo TV and put it on the air by the end of today."
The weight of what had just been said settled in, and Theora felt Edison draw a breath- but he refrained from saying anything. Without official sponsorship from a corporate company, the network had no leg to stand on. They would plummet in the ratings, and pretty soon everyone would be out of a job. It would be better off to work for Big Time TV than to work for an unsponsored corporate station.
"Now, I believe you when you tell me MacPhisto is untraceable," Murray said. "If there was a way to track him down, Theora would certainly find it. But I'm warning you, we've got less than twenty-four hours to do what's asked of us. So we'd better hop to it." He paused, as if waiting for further comments, but when no one said anything- Theora, for her part, was too surprised by the news to speak- he backed away and left the pair alone, confident that they could work out the problem.
As soon as Theora looked to Edison, he sighed, already determined to turn this around no matter how much he disliked it. "You think they tried looking MacPhisto up themselves, but found it too tough a nut to crack?" he said.
"So they turned the job over to the professionals," Theora said. "Very wise of them, if I do say so." She looked to her monitor and scanned the results of the search, hearing Murray's voice resound in her head. If there was a way to track him down, Theora would certainly find it. Everyone was counting on her to do this job, and it was important for Theora to reject her weaknesses, to reject the sensible, despairing voice in her head that told her there couldn't possibly be a way. There was always a way. She placed he fingertips on the keys, and Edison caught the motion and gave her a knowing look. "You're going to do the impossible, Theora?"
"If I can do it, it's not impossible," she corrected, hitting the search bar where she had first looked for MacPhisto. "You know, if MacPhisto only erased his own personal file but there are references to him still scattered across the database, I think I know where to look. There's bound to be some vestige, some backup file that's still in existence."
"And you could break into it?" Edison murmured. "The city's security is no joke, Theora Only the best of the best are allowed to mess with the files in the mainframe."
"Have you forgotten who I am?" Theora teasingly retorted. "I am the best of the best." Though it was a joke, a small part of her had to agree- she had, after all, just been thinking that morning about how she was in a league of her own.
But anyway, to business. Once again Theora searched for MacPhisto and once again nothing relevant came up. She tried the link on David Edge's page once again, and once again the Error message appeared. But Theora was crafty and knew that there had to be a way around the page, one that didn't involve knowing the subject's real name. Not every tidbit of information could have been flushed away into the cyberspace. Instead of clicking the link that brought her back to the previous page, she typed in a code that could give her access to the city mainframe and its database, if she worked hard enough for it. The words flashed up onscreen in big red letters- ACCESS DENIED- and Theora sighed, gritted her teeth, and kept trying.
"It just occurred to me," Edison said. "If MacPhisto is a Blank, Grossberg would have never bought Zoo TV from him. In fact, he wouldn't have been able to buy anything from him at all. Blanks don't have bank accounts- they'd need a personal file for that."
"So MacPhisto's file might not be appearing in the database because it's being updated," Theora said, her heart beginning to speed up in wild excitement. "Perhaps you were right, Edison- he's in the database under a different name, or is changing his file to a new name."
"It still won't help us if we can't get in," Edison said. He leaned forward, his hands on the back of Theora's chair and his chin centimeters away from resting on her head, and the contact felt warm and natural. "Go to the mainframe. There's bound to be a way."
Silently, Theora complied, and as soon as she was at the database's main page she began throwing every trick she knew at it, trying to pull up all the pages that were in the process of being edited. Three times the red letters flashed on screen- ACCESS DENIED, ACCESS DENIED, ACCESS DENIED. And then, a sudden miracle occurred, and the words turned green. ACCESS GRANTED. Theora found herself staring at a new version of the database, one where the city's committee made tiny changes in preparation for updates the files in the event of name changes, relationship statuses, how many children one had, occupation switches, and the like. The updates were then reviewed by another assemblage of citizens before finally being published live. The theory was that no one could read an alternate article and be the wiser, but those who were as skilled as Theora could sometimes enter the mainframe and mess around with edits, seeing the evidence disappear before their very eyes. No one would ever try to edit their own file, though, of course. Controllers may be paid hackers, but there was only so far the city would let one go in the quest for information.
"He shouldn't be hard to track down now," Theora said, rapidly typing in MacPhisto's name and hitting Enter. As the search results gathered together, Edison and Theora held their breaths collectively, to release them at once when the first result appeared onscreen- Paul de Bono, right before David Edge, Adam Clayton, and Larry Mullen. Hesitantly, Theora clicked on the first name, and the file that opened made her grin. Below the name Paul de Bono was a series of smaller letters- Mr. MacPhisto.
"This must be the guy," she said. Edison muttered something that sounded like assent. Clicking around, Theora discovered MacPhisto's eye- and fingerprint, and pondered the lack of a photograph before striking gold- his viewphone number. Theora copied it down and then handed the number to Edison. "There you go. I suppose you'd better call him alone."
Edison sucked in an impressed breath. "Theora, you're a goddamn genius."
"Thank you," she said, flashing her twinkling brown eyes at him. "I'm no Bryce Lynch, but I try."
She waited there, at her monitor, and withdrew from the database in her spare time- it wasn't always a good idea to spend a lot of time down their without being fully authorized. Murray came over, and Theora relayed the tale of how she had found MacPhisto's 'phone number to him. "Edison's gone off to call him by himself. I suppose we'll have Cheviot to inform when he comes back."
"Good work, Theora," Murray praised her. "You've made more progress than I expected- after all, the twenty-four hours won't be up until twelve more hours." Theora smiled but didn't soak in the compliment; it was all a hard day's work to her.
Soon enough Edison came back, and Murray put out his hand and heartily shook Edison's. "Thank you so much for complying to the terms of our network," he said. "I know you've made a big sacrifice here by holding back your personal beliefs."
"Yeah, I did that," Edison replied calmly, letting go of Murray's hand. "Wasn't as easy as it sounds."
"So what did you tell MacPhisto?" Theora asked, wishing she could have been there to see what he looked like. "Did you make it clear that Network 23 wants to purchase Zoo TV?"
"Of a sort," Edison said, piercing Theora suddenly with a knowing look. Theora abruptly got the feeling that he was hiding something from her… something important… "I agreed to meet him downtown for lunch."
"What?" Murray blurted in surprise. "You to meet MacPhisto for lunch?"
"Don't be silly, Murray, it's only an hour from now," Edison said. "I'll be plenty hungry then."
"That is obviously not the point," Murray stated. He took an imploring step towards Edison, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Why didn't you just give Cheviot's number to MacPhisto?"
"How would I know he'd call him?" Edison spat scathingly. "I don't want this to be a nice, smooth transaction, Murray. MacPhisto is obviously hiding something about Zoo TV, and he's putting the public at risk by allowing its messages to be broadcast. Before we make the decision to buy Zoo TV, I'm going to interrogate the man who made it and see if I can't uncover some of his dirty secrets."
He strode away from Murray, and Theora discovered that she was fighting the urge to smile broadly. After Edison's odd bouts of not caring the day before, it was nice to have him back as a reporter willing to investigate. Murray, however, looked aghast, and called behind Edison's back, "But Zik Zak-"
"Zik Zak can take care of itself," Edison said. He searched around a bit before finally finding and picking up the Network 23 camera that he used on nearly story. Lifting it onto his shoulder and turning around, he stared at Murray through the viewfinder before continuing, "Just tell Cheviot to tell Ped Xing that we'll get the ratings back up, all right- just not in the way he thinks. Theora and I are going to expose Zoo TV, and we're going to do it by the end of the day."
"You're researching and broadcasting an entire story in just twelve hours?" Murray said disbelievingly. "That's nearly a record time, Edison especially since we don't have any real leads on Zoo TV, and the ratings might fall even fu-"
"Murray." Edison lowered the camera from his face, and Theora saw that his blue eyes were blazing. He set his jaw firmly as he spoke. "I want to be involved in this story. I want to know I'm doing something right and not just mocking the Devil. I can do this- you've got to trust me."
"I, for one, trust you, Edison," Theora spoke up admirably from behind the monitor. She felt a thrill that Edison had included her when talking about the upcoming story. "I'm ready to get started."
"Okay," Murray said warningly. He wagged a finger in Edison's direction. "You've not sold me yet, and I doubt you'll convince Ped Xing. But I do trust you to carry this story out to its fullest."
"Thank you, sir," Edison said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a date." He turned and waltzed towards the doors that would take him out into the great big world, and Theora smiled to herself and began to set up a link to his camera, to see through Edison's eyes throughout the entire "date."