Daria looked up from her podium at the students assembled in the auditorium. She quietly fingered the book in her hand. Pride and Prejudice. It gave her strength to do what needed to be done next.
"Students, quiet down please." The din died down and the next program was cued up. "Today we are going to study literature. This program is being brought to us by Ultra Cola, which is a subsidiary of Zik Zak. Please watch your monitors and be prepared to interact when appropriate. Your feedback will constitute your grade for the day." The lights dimmed in the room and the program began streaming to the monitors at each chair in the auditorium. Daria moved to the side of her dais and opened her book to read by the weak light of the EXIT sign.
In a classroom across the hall Jane was going through a similar preparation. "Class, today you will be seeing a program that will discuss color theory. While we do not have the materials to actually experiment with color, this program will describe for you the dynamics of using color in all mediums, paint, crayon, pastel and glaze. This program is being brought to us by the Zik-Zak Corporation. Remember, your participation will determine your grade."
At the end of the day the young women keyed in their grading program run for the day and they walked to the bus stop together. It was already nightfall and a wind in the city picked up the empty Zik-Zak packages and whirled them around with the other detritus of the street.
"Jane, we have got to get this done sooner, I don't think I can do this anymore." Daria looked through her bag for her credit tube so that she would be ready for the bus.
"I know. There is no way to teach art without paint, canvas, paper---ANYTHING. It's such a joke. Let's not talk about," she lowered her voice, "you know."
"So what should we do for dinner?" Daria asked, deliberately changing to subject. "I can't eat any more crap. Maybe we can go to the Fringes to see if anyone is growing a vegetable or something."
"There's always the State Store. I heard they got some eggplants in. I can actually cook an eggplant."
"Jane, when did you ever learn to cook anything, let alone an eggplant?"
"I have many talents waiting to be discovered. I saw it on Iron Chef."
"Right. When we win the lotto, I'll buy an eggplant from the State Store."
"It could happen. I guess it will have to be noodles again. We're teachers, if we were cops we could afford an occasional eggplant."
"Cheer up, we'll go out to the Fringes on the weekend and see if there is anything fresh out there to buy."
The bus came as they continued to discuss their dinner options. Their ride took them thirty minutes towards the edge of the city. The apartment blocks soared into the sky, each gray and dismal. Laundry fluttered from every balcony, drying as it collected a thin veneer of soot and city pollution. The apartment housed most of the city's low-level workers. Teachers, administrators, medical personnel, police. Each profession was allocated a specific type of accommodation. Teachers were given small studio apartments, but if they could find someone to share with, they could upgrade to a one-bedroom. At least this way they didn't have to eat in bed.
Daria and Jane had been together even before. No one ever mentioned what it was like in the not so distant past. The survivors were just that, trying to live another day. Thinking of how it used to be was just depressing. People eradicated the memories by watching television and eating junk food.
A drizzle fell as they walked across the cement courtyard to their building. The drops stained the pale colored uniforms, as they were absorbed into the fabric. In the apartment the women dropped their bags and changed out of their work clothes. The television flickered as it always did; the volume as low as the government would allow. A quiz show droned on. Daria began to boil the water for their noodles as Jane began to get the equipment out for the bypass.
The project had occurred to them one evening after they had consumed some vodka-like substance. They planned out how they would produce their own educational show, using words and visuals to stimulate the students, not to sedate them. At first they didn't take it seriously, it was a fantasy that they indulged when they were particularly frustrated with their work, but recently events had arranged themselves so that they could seriously consider how they could accomplish it.
One day, when going to the produce market in the Fringes, Daria had happened upon a Network 23 camera, before moving it from the site, she had turned it off and removed the tracking chip. As she spirited it away she justified the theft as a sign. It was divine intervention. They were meant to create a better educational program.
Having the camera allowed them to create their programs. They were nearly done with a series on art and literature. The satellite hook up, which was currently disabled, was going to let them upload it into the centralized system that ran the curriculum for all schools everywhere.
The women quickly ate their meal and began the last installment of their series.
***
Bryce Lynch, the Vice President of Security for Network 23, tapped away at his keyboard, working on a newer, faster tracking program for interception of errant transmissions. In any other place Bryce would have been home daubing Clearasil on his face, hoping that he could score at the dance, but here he was an integral part of a large, multi-national, communications conglomerate.
"So B-B-Bryce, when are you going to go out on a date?" Max Headroom asked. Max was an artificial intelligence program created during a health crisis of Network 23's most popular reporter Edison Carter. Max had Edison's memories and a strange cyber-resemblance to Edison, but Max was certainly his own man, except for the fact that he was confined to the limits of the networking systems and the monitor.
"Just a minute Max, I'm trying to execute this program." His fingers pounded the round keys of the keyboard. Ker-chunk, ker-chunk.
"I didn't know that your hands were registered, lethal weapons." He chuckled at his own joke.
"Okay, I'm done." Bryce leaned back and sipped at a Zik-Zak shake.
"So, why don't you ever leave this place?" The image asked him as he shifted from right to left profile.
"Why? I like it here. I go home to sleep." He yawned. It occurred to Bryce that it had been over 36 hours since he had been home. "In fact, I think I should head out now."
"Ah-ha. It's my hypnotic power. You're getting sleepy—sleepy." The image of Max stared at Bryce and then abruptly blinked. "Or not."
"Good night Max. I'll see you later." Bryce donned his black leather jacket and keyed in the security code at the door, which slammed shut behind him.
"Huh. All alone on a Friday night." Max scanned around the perimeter of the monitor, as though hoping to find a happening party there. "I need to find something to do."
***
The newsroom was abuzz with activity. A wall of monitors showed the programming for the leading networks, the ratings guy's fingers flew across his keyboard as he analyzed the raw data minute by minute. The display showed that Network 23 was leading with their early evening show Baseball Assaults, showing the highlights from the violent world of baseball. It was a great lead in to their prime time programming. The show's energy caused an upsurge in sales of Zik-Zak shakes, which the sponsor loved.
Theora peered into the screen where Edison Carter was cueing up his story. "Okay Edison, we've cleared some time for you right before Summer Wind."
Edison groaned, "Oh, not that crappy soap. Come on Theora, can't you get me in before the evening news? Something dignified?"
"Look Edison, that's been sold to the sponsor, the only free time I've got for you is in that slot, take it or leave it."
Theora's beautiful face stared at Edison from the preview monitor on his camera. "Fine. Okay, we're ready here. I've got the witnesses from that last Metro Cop altercation here and they're ready to go."
"We'll be cutting to you in five minutes." Theora punched up her schedule and began to slot the satellite transmission. "You've got your uplink ready."
Edison whistled I've Got You Under My Skin as he waited for his cue.
***
Jane was demonstrating painting with a palette knife while Daria steadied the heavy camera on top of their television.
"Okay students, take your oil based paint, you can consult our website for instructions for how to make your own paint out of common household ingredients, and gently cut it onto the canvass like this." Jane deftly slit the paint off of her knife in chunks, creating a three dimensional element to her work.
Daria gave her the signal and they turned the camera off. "Great! This camera really caught the nuance of your technique. I sure hope that some of these kids try this at home." She checked the recording unit to confirm that it had burned the transmission. "Okay, I'm just going to check playback here..."
"So girls, whacha doin'?" The television, which was routinely ignored in the household, suddenly came alive.
"GAH!" Jane screamed.
"What?!?" Daria responded to her friends shout.
"There's a guy on the television talking to us."
Daria turned to the monitor as Jane turned it up. Max Headroom waited for them to back away enough for him to see them. "So, d-d-do you have a C-C-Coke for your visitor?"
"Who are you?" Daria asked, ignoring the request for refreshment.
"I'm Max Headroom. You're Daria," he nodded in her direction, "and you're Jane."
"Why are you spying on us?" Daria asked, trying to nonchalantly cover up the evidence of their treason.
"I'm not sp-sp-spying, I'm bored." He affected a deep frown, and expression that he hoped would convey bored.
"I know the feeling buddy." Jane said, "So why come here? This isn't exactly one of the hip and happening night spots."
"Au contraire, mon frere. This is one of the hippest and most happening spots. Most of the places I've visited are just filled with a sofa show."
"A sofa show?" Daria asked as she walked towards the kitchen for some water.
"You know, a Mum, a Dad and a couple of kids, sitting on the sofa." He illustrated the Sofa Show by letting his eyes glaze over and his jaw go slack.
"Oh, we know the Sofa Show, don't we Daria? Only we call it the Classroom Show. One hundred and thirty kids staring at us like we're fish in an aquarium."
"More like them being the fish. Large mouthed bass. Mmmm, bass." Daria thought about the last time she had a piece of fresh fish.
"So we're more interesting than that? Go figure." Jane kicked back with a can of Ultra Cola.
"Well n-n-now you're just doing your version of the Sofa Show. Go back to that other thing." Max said as he stuck his tongue out.
"What other thing?" Daria asked, giving Jane a meaningful glance.
"You know, where you were doing that program with the colors."
"Uh, I was just painting, it's not really a program." Jane played it off. Maybe he hadn't had a chance to see what they were really doing.
"Well, it's a lot more interesting than anything else I've looked at tonight." He was wheedling. "Please?"
"How about you play a game of twenty questions with us?" Daria offered.
"Is it animal, vegetable or mineral?" Jane started, hoping to get Max off the topic of programs and move his obvious short attention span to something else.
"Oh, vegetable..." Daria drooled.
"Will you stop with the food thing?" Jane gave her a nudge good-naturedly with her foot. "We'll get some real food tomorrow."
"G-g-getting some Zik Zak burgers?"
"Hell no. I want real food. Salad, fish, a steak. I don't think that I've had a steak in at least a decade," Daria observed, "Fruit. An apple would be great. A nice, firm, red apple. Yum." She closed her eyes for a minute and imagined what an apple tasted like.
"Just stop torturing yourself. And me."
"And me." Max added.
"Do you eat?" Jane asked him.
"Ah," he opened his mouth as though about to say something and then closed it again. "No. I don't eat. Tell me what it's like."
"Oh, it's the best! Or it was. I used to eat pizza, but that was when it was good. Cheese, hot and dripping off the slice. Pepperoni, spicy and crispy from the oven. A nice tomato sauce, sweet and spicy at the same time. These days, a pizza is like cardboard, hard, crunchy. These are not the correct adjectives to describe food." Daria went away for a moment, to some memory of food.
"She'll come back in a minute. So Max, tell me about yourself." Jane hadn't had a date in a while.
"Oooh, my f-f-favorite subject! It all started out in a five thousand watt station in Fresno, California..."
***
Edison finished his stand-up and as usual, even the promo for the more in-depth story got better ratings than the show they were interrupting. It was a weird phenomenon, the news revealed more and more corruption, crime and deception from trusted officials, and the public ate it up. Ratings for news shows were consistently high. Yet there was rarely an outcry about what was reported upon. The viewers at home watched the scandals with interest, but seemed at a loss as to what to do about them. Edison risked his life to bring these stories to light. He hoped that having the information would empower the viewers; but in fact it seemed to be hardening them and making them cynical. He wondered why he continued to work at a profession that valued sensation, even if it was the truth, but was loathe to correct the problems it uncovered.
He shouldered the camera, the third one he'd been issued this year, and walked toward the underground.
"Edison," Theora called to him through the link, "Murray wants to see you if it's not too late for you."
"Can't it wait 'til tomorrow? I'm beat."
Murray's face appeared next to Theora's, "Edison, it's important, it's about that camera you lost."
"Which one?" Edison was tired. It's not smart to remind the boss that you constantly lose company resources. "Never mind, I'll be there within the hour."
The train was on time and he took it to the station directly under the monolithic building that housed Network 23. He sailed through security, partly from having the routine down from so many years of dealing with it and partly because he was well known and rarely given any real problems by the guards.
"Hey Edison, great piece today, you killed Network 66." Rutt, the latest member of the board to hang around the newsroom complimented him. Once a month one of the
Sycophants would remove themselves from Chairman Cheviot's ass and give the impression that they had their finger on the pulse of the network by coming down to the newsroom to 'observe.'
Edison nodded at him. He was typical. Sharp suit, stylish haircut and manicured nails. He walked past the young man and headed towards his boss. "Murray, did you get a lead on my camera?"
Murray was the quintessential producer. Intense, bald and ulcer ridden. Edison thought he might sleep on a cot in his office, even though he had a wife and a home in the suburbs. Murray was sipping at his fourth cup of coffee that day, or was it fourth pot of coffee? "Edison, you have got to stop being so flippant about this. It's not just the cost of the equipment. When you lose one of these things you compromise the network's security as well."
"Murray, don't worry so much about it. I'm sure that it's been stripped and sold off for parts by now." Edison helped himself to a cup of bullpen brew. As he expected it was strong and bitter, like most of the people that worked there.
"You see? That's the attitude that I'm talking about. For your information, Bryce is working on a program that detects transmission leaks and he picked up on a signal emanating from your camera."
Edison raised an eyebrow. "Really? Can he trace it?" He had a professional interest in who had his camera and what they were doing with it.
Murray shrugged. "No, it's not that kind of transmission. Bryce thinks that it might be used for pirate transmissions."
Max popped into the monitor behind Murray and began to mimic him behind his back. Edison tried to ignore him, but as Murray got deeper into his rant, Max became more florid and it was impossible not to crack up.
"What's so funny?" Murray demanded.
"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for meeeee!" Max sang, borrowing an ancient memory from Edison. "Shiver me timbers! Hoist the missen mast! Fifteen men on a dead man's chest. Good thing he's dead, otherwise that would hurt. Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of rum."
"Max cut it out, can't you see that Murray is serious?" Edison tried to straighten up, but it was hard when Max was imitating Long John Silver.
"Oh, h-h-he's always serious. What he needs is a vacation." Max winked.
"Look Edison, we're going to track down who's got that camera." He continued, pointedly ignoring Max. "I know that sometimes you 'lose' stuff, and I know that you think it's for the common good. I know what happened to all of the emergency provisions we 'lost' last Christmas, and I know that the orphanage you gave them to made good use of them. I'm warning you Edison, if your camera is being used by media pirates, and you have anything to do with it, even with your ratings, they will not only fire you, they will excommunicate you. Do you understand me?" Murray slammed the desktop for emphasis, sending his coffee careening off of it and causing Max to jump in the monitor.
"Oh, taking a firm stand are you Murray?" Max chuckled.
"Max! Stop it. He's serious. Murray, I promise you, the camera was stolen. I had nothing to do with it. I'll try to track it down, but later. I'm tired and I need dinner and sleep." Edison rubbed the back of his neck.
"Fine. Bryce is gone for the day anyhow..."
"He had a date," interjected Max, only to be met with incredulous stares by his human colleagues.
"Get back with him tomorrow or Sunday, do whatever it takes, but get that camera back before whoever has it zips our programs or our competitors programs. How would that look?" The fire that burned in his stomach reached a point where Murray decided to take a swig of antacid.
"First thing, I promise. Now, before you give yourself a stroke, let's go home and enjoy what's left of the evening."
***
Edison didn't remember how he got home. He woke up in his bed after nine hours of sleep. Max was watching him, waiting for him to open his eyes.
"You know, I don't think Bryce had a date, but I did." Max smiled and one of his teeth sparkled. "I met two great girls. We played a game. They do stuff."
"Max, isn't it a bit early for this?"
"Well, yes, I wouldn't say that we're going steady yet, but they are cap-ti-ti-vating." He polished his virtual nails on his virtual chest and admired the shine.
"I mean; isn't it too early in the morning for this." Edison got up and stretched, causing all of the muscles in his lean body to flex.
"Naw. The sun's up, that's all we need for it to be morning, isn't it?"
Edison looked outside the bank of windows that overlooked the city. The sun may have been out, but it couldn't permeate the haze that hung over the city.
"I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriends. I think that you would like them."
"Max, honestly, girlfriends?"
He pouted. "Yes, plural, girlfriends. Daria and Jane. Jane and Daria. Two delightful young ladies. Dedicated public servants. Don't watch much television though."
"That alone causes them to stand out. So how did you meet these formidable women?" Edison put the kettle on.
"I went door to door, or to be more specific, monitor to monitor." Max twirled around the confines of the tube.
"Huh? Are you serious? You can't do that! That's infringing on their privacy. Besides, how can you go to a private terminal without them having a receiver...oh shit, Max, I'll bet they're the ones with my camera!" Edison stirred the milk into his tea, but dropped the spoon onto the sideboard in surprise.
"Are you suggesting that my paramours are thieves? I refuse to believe it." Max sulked and then disappeared.
***
Edison, Theora and Bryce were meeting in Bryce's warren. Bryce could have had an executive suite, up on the higher floors, but he preferred to be close to the mainframe, the distribution frame and all the other equipment that comprised his dominion.
"I'm telling you, Max knows the people who have my camera. Now Bryce, what kinds of transmissions are they making, and how much damage does it look like they can inflict?" Edison paced in the small area, among the servers, hubs and miles of cables.
"Edison, you're working yourself into a froth. So Max met up with some girls. Honestly, can you believe what he's saying? After all, is he really dating them?" Theora tried to be the voice of reason. Essentially that was a controller's forte, to remain calm and reasonable.
"Bryce, he said you went on a date last night, is that true?" Edison asked the executive. Bryce's age, seventeen, belied his great abilities. A graduate of the Academy of Computer Science, Bryce was brilliant, if a bit of a nerd. Under his horn-rimmed glasses, Bryce was also very attractive. Theora noticed this. Edison never considered it.
"Right," Bryce chuckled. As if he'd ever find a girl who shared his interests and who could understand his lifestyle. "No, but come to think of it, he did suggest it. I wonder if he's fixating on dating for some reason?" He tapped his keyboard. "Okay, so here are the waves that I detected. They aren't transmissions per se, they're more like pings."
"Pings?" Edison was unfamiliar with the term.
"Pings are electronic signals sent out to determine if a particular end point is still up and receiving. We ping your camera every four seconds. Our internal networks ping every end point all day long. It's a routine that helps us route data and broadcast transmissions as efficiently as possible." Bryce hoped that he had dumbed it down enough for Edison. He knew that Theora understood.
"So if they were pings, what were they trying to find?" Theora asked, hoping that Edison would catch up.
"The first one was our satellite. The second one, which came about three days later, was the main newsroom server here at headquarters. The last one seems really odd to me. It's a video server at the Ministry of Education. Why would anyone want to send anything there?" Bryce chuckled at his own joke; he was an elitist when it came to education.
"Wait a minute. Max said that the girls he met were public servants. I wonder if they're affiliated with education in some way? Bryce, were you able to identify where the signal originated?" Edison scratched his head in thought.
"I was wondering when you were going to get around to asking me that. The answer is no. They somehow caused the ping to originate from a mainframe at the unemployment office. I know how I would have arranged it, but I don't know how they would have. My guess is that they are on the government's network. All they would have to do from there is do some reflections and some fiddling with the source code. Piece of cake really, but beyond the scope of most people."
"Okay, so let's nutshell this." Edison counted on his fingers as he spoke, "First, we've got women who are affiliated with government in some way and we're pretty sure they have my camera. Secondly, government employees live in sector R in those high-rise blocks. Third, government employees, living in government housing, enter the network on government access points. Fourth, these particular government workers are trying to get into the Ministry of Education video server. Fifth, what government workers would have the background to do all of that and have a reason to do so?"
"Teachers," Theora said excitedly, "these women must be teachers. It makes sense. Who else would it be?"
"Teachers?" Bryce asked. "Why? And why Ministry of Education teachers?" The implication was that people who taught the drones, were drones themselves.
"Actually, that's the only thing that makes sense. People teaching in private schools have what
they need. People teaching in the
magnet programs, again, cream of the crop students, unlimited resources. Bryce, you're a product of that type of
environment. The majority of kids today
are being taught in Ministry schools."
"Warehouses you mean." Bryce rolled his eyes.
Edison had never concerned himself with education. He didn't have kids. It never really crossed his mind. "What do you mean warehouses?"
"Hundreds of kids in a classroom, one teacher and nothing but terminals spewing advertising all day."
"Advertising? In school?"
"Right. Most of the Ministry schools are actually run as charter schools. The teachers are government employees, but the administration is given over to companies that specialize in education. One of the ways that they subsidize the cost is through advertising." Theora had a niece and nephew that she helped keep in private schools. "I'll wager that these ladies are trying to break into the curriculum server, either to sabotage it or for some other reason."
Max deigned to return on Bryce's terminal. "Not s-s-sabotage, it's better than that."
"Max what do you know?" Edison felt silly asking an artificial intelligence, that looked too much like him for comfort, for information. It reminded him of a mirror in a fun house. It was him, only distorted, and goofy. When Max popped up Edison felt he was perpetually hallucinating.
"Oh, what don't I know? A gentleman never tells." Max was insufferably pleased with himself. "My girls are very, very clever."
"If they're routing in, around and through government systems, I'll give them that." Bryce conceded.
"Max, why don't you take us to meet your girls?" Edison asked sweetly.
"Oh, I don't know if I want them to meet the family just yet," Max lowered his voice, "if you know what I mean."
"Well, if you don't think they're the kind of girls we'd bring home to Mother..." Edison waited.
"Um," Max thought, "Okay. Under one condition; you have to bring them a lovely sack of groceries. Full of fresh veggies and...steak. Yes, my girls deserve a nice juicy steak. Oh, and one other thing, no matter what, nothing bad happens to them." Max sat slightly back, almost as though he had crossed his arms over his chest in a waiting posture.
Edison looked at Theora. "What should we do?"
"Ask questions first, then make decisions." She shrugged.
"If Max can go to their coordinates, I can home in on him." Bryce pounded his keyboard while Edison shouldered his camera.
"I'm going with you." Theora insisted.
"Why?"
"First of all, I don't want anything bad to happen to them and secondly, I don't trust you to do the marketing."
***
They stopped at a State Store and bought the freshest food they could find. Edison charged it to his expense account. Bryce was giving instructions through the link in the camera.
"Okay, go to sector R, they're in those blocks of flats."
They drove up to the curb and parked Theora's car. Edison looked up at the group of buildings. It seemed to be even darker and more drab here. Kids were playing hopscotch in the courtyard, but it was a lackluster game. They were outside for fresh air, but since there wasn't any; they amused themselves as best they could. A monitor was on a stand near the play area, it was tuned to an educational show. A big yellow bird and a purple dinosaur were discussing the letter P. None of the children was paying attention.
"Okay, guys, go up to the fourteenth floor and turn left, two doors." Bryce's disembodied voice directed them.
The elevator slowly ascended the building. It opened at each floor and every time they were assaulted with an obnoxious cooking smell. After the fourth time, Edison and Theora amused themselves with trying to identify it.
"Cabbage and cat food." Edison's nose twitched.
"More like broccoli and cat shit," Theora guessed.
Edison looked at her askance, "I didn't know you said shit."
"Well, I don't often, but you must agree, that smell was pretty bad." She wrinkled up her nose and smiled an amused smile at herself. She liked to keep surprising him.
"Right, okay so what's this one? They continued to play and to gross each other out until they reached the fourteenth floor, which, as it turns out, was actually the thirteenth floor.
"Well, there's no nasty smell here." Edison noted as they followed Bryce's instructions and found themselves in front of a door.
"It's a nice change of pace," Theora agreed.
Edison knocked and he could hear the occupants bumping around before someone peered through the peephole.
"Who is it?" Asked a voice from within.
"It's Edison Carter." He said it in his authoritative voice, the one that he used with scumbags and corporate criminals.
There was a bit of a delay and a pretty brunette with long curly hair opened the door. "Max said we should let you in. You brought groceries? By the way, I'm Jane."
They walked into a small, but clean apartment. The curtains were open letting in the light of day. Max was on a monitor placed inconveniently in the center of the room. It was Edison's guess that the appliance doubled as a table when the occupants weren't entertaining.
"Then you must be Daria." Edison looked over towards the other occupant of the apartment. He took a second longer to check her out, because she was really beautiful. Daria had a heart-shaped face, long auburn hair and deep brown eyes that she was hiding behind very large, round glasses.
"You must be Edison, Max has told us so much about you." Daria extended her hand.
"I'm Theora, I work with Edison." She shook hands as well.
"Okay, now we have a party!" Max had somehow come across a party hat, which he insisted upon wearing.
Jane had been looking through the bag. "Daria, it really is a party. There are vegetables and meat in here. Oh look, apples!"
Daria joined her friend in the kitchen as they looked at the
bounty in the bag. "This is really
generous."
"I was hoping that you could be generous with us." Edison slid into his reporter mode. The first thing was to make the subjects of the interview comfortable, the next was to make them indebted, now came the part where he got what he wanted. "I think that you've got something of mine."
Daria looked guiltily at his camera, but aside from that betrayed nothing. "I don't know what you are talking about." She was not unaware of Edison's attraction to her, so she batted her eyelashes at him.
"Don't try that with me, at least not until after we've sorted this out." Edison shifted the weight of his camera.
Max took offence at that remark. "I'll remind you that the lady is with me."
"I don't know why you have it, but I'm guessing that there's a really good reason. If you give it back to me, I promise that nothing will happen, no arrest, no restitution, no questions. I might even swing it where we can get you a reward of some kind."
"That's very nice, but really, we don't know what you are talking about." Jane came out from behind the counter.
"My camera. You ladies have my camera. It can't do you any good and it will help me get out of a jam with my boss, so why don't you come off of it and help me out here?"
"Edison, there's a transmission emanating from your location right now." Bryce's voice called to him across the link.
"What?" Edison looked around. The two women looked at him blankly.
"Normally I wouldn't have been able to track it, but it's replicating in the ident chip in your new camera."
"In English Bryce." Edison was losing his patience.
"Your old camera is downloading data to the server at MOE, and it's somewhere within that building." They could hear Bryce tapping the keys on his board across the link.
Edison looked frantically around the apartment, but he couldn't actually see or hear anything. The two young women's faces were impassive. Before he could do anything there was a heavy pounding at the door. "Metro Police! Open up!"
Daria got up to answer the door as Max observed, "Wow, this is a w-w-wild party, we're being raided by the metros!"
"Shut up Max!" Edison yelled.
The police stormed through the door followed by a Network 23 executive. It was the guy who had been hanging around the newsroom, Rutt.
"We are here to execute a warrant for Network 23." The cop started to prowl through the apartment, but there wasn't much to overturn. Jane protected the groceries, carefully laying them out on the counter, so that the cops could see that there was no camera hiding in the head of lettuce.
"Officer, please, these young ladies are innocent, if you must arrest someone, a-a-arrest me! I'm guilty, guilty of love in the third degree." Max continued to add a Felini-esque element to an already bizarre afternoon.
"He sounds like someone we know." Jane said to Daria.
"Yeah, someone from a long time ago." Daria mused on the subject as the metro cops upended the mattress on her bed.
Rutt stood in the corner watching the proceedings. His suit was perfectly creased, every hair was in place, and he tapped an impeccably shined shoe on the hardwood floor impatiently. Clearly he had places to go, people to see and things to do.
The cops thoroughly searched the apartment and found nothing. They finally left, leaving behind them a tremendous mess. Rutt looked around with contempt and caught Edison's eye. "Hey guy, bad luck. Wouldn't it have been great if we could have found it with you rolling?" He shook his head, "Oh well, maybe next time." For just a second he looked right at Daria and Edison thought he saw something pass between them, but how could that be?
Daria and Jane began to straighten up their home. Thankfully nothing had been destroyed in the search. "If you can hang around, we should be done with our tidy up in about an hour. We'll cook dinner for you if you like." Jane offered, after all she was the essence of hospitality.
Edison's frustration was palpable. He knew that camera was here, and he knew that they were doing something with it, something subversive. The problem was that Edison felt that he was a good judge of character. He got a vibe from these women and it was good. Max apparently was privy to their plan, and although he was unpredictable, his morals were the same as Edison's, so whatever it was that they were doing, it wasn't bad. He was pacing a bit as they picked up their possessions. His thoughts were interrupted by
Bryce.
"The transmission has ended. Whatever it was, it's over."
"I get that impression. Okay, we're coming back now." He glanced at Theora, "Empty-handed."
"Thanks for the food!" Daria called after him, "Stop by anytime!"
***
To Edison's way of thinking the next stop was the Ministry of Education. It took almost an hour to get to the offices of MOE, they were on the western edge of the city, in what appeared to be a bunker. Edison and Theora walked into a small reception area and activated the camera system. It took a couple of minutes for someone to respond.
A young guy in a rugby shirt appeared on the screen. "Uh, Hi, what can I help you with?"
"It's Edison Carter and Theora Jones, we're here to discuss a transmission that you received."
"I got a transmission? I'm just minding the place, I'm the weekend technician. I don't know if I can help you."
"Well, can we come in and look around?" Edison asked politely. No sense in strong-arming a guy who apparently had nothing to hide.
"Sure, if you want. I'll be right up to get you." The tech took a hurried bite of a sandwich and switched off the 'phone.
A few minutes later the door to the reception area opened and the technician who spoke to them earlier emerged. "Hi, I'm really honored to meet you, I love your show. I'm Wally." He extended his hand, once he had wiped it off on his trousers. Wally conducted them back to his 'area' a large server farm in a cold and sterile room. "Here, you should wear a static bracelet, we've got a lot of really old equipment here. Better safe than sorry."
Theora looked around. The equipment that they had in the newsroom was state of the art; what she saw here shocked her. "Are you telling me that the schools all get their programming from...this?"
"Yeah, can you imagine? You've really got to be into antiques to work here. You've got to admit that we get the job done though. Check this out." He brought them over to a metal cabinet. "We control all of grade 6 from this unit alone." He seemed really proud of the set up.
Edison tried to understand what he was looking at. "Do you mean to tell me that every single elementary school in the region gets their classroom programming from this one unit right here?"
"Well, sure. It's not like the classrooms are different in any way. We just do an eight-hour broadcast from right here. The unit gets the content from the satellite and then we broadcast it on our proprietary network. No biggie really." Wally rubbed an imaginary schmutz from the cabinet.
"Is there anyway to preview the content?" Theora asked, trying to understand the read out on Wally's display terminal.
Wally scratched his head, "Why would I want to? I sat through enough of that stuff before I got drafted into the technical academy."
"But is there a way?" She pressed.
"I think so." He glanced over at his monitor to see if there might be a button on it that said 'preview'.
"May I?" Theora indicated his seat.
"Be my guest."
She oriented herself with the keyboard. It seemed to be a descendent of an old Teletype machine. When she struck the keys they made a loud thwacking noise. "Gosh, is there going to be a daisy wheel printer too?"
Wally laughed, "Yeah, and a plotter. We specialize in salvage here."
Theora's fingers worked their magic and she was able to bring up a preview program. "Okay, now I need to figure out how to identify what content we need and then we can watch it. Get Bryce on the link."
Edison opened the link on his camera. "Bryce, we're here at MOE. We've got access to their servers and we want to preview the transmission, but we need to find where it is. Can you help us?"
"Sure Edison, have Theora open a sharing program at her end and I'll see if I can find it for you."
Edison nodded at Theora, who opened the program. They could see the code display across the monitor as Bryce hunted for the treasure.
"So you think you know what's going on?" Max had appeared on the television that was on the old metal desk that Wally used for his notes.
"Well, we're trying to find out, since you're of no help at all." Edison waited for Bryce to get the transmission running.
"Edison, you don't have to know everything that's going on." Max seemed worried, if that were possible.
"Hey, it's my camera. If those women are using it to corrupt young minds..."
"Right. Have you seen the stuff that is run in the schools? The m-m-minds are already corrupted." Max frowned. He tried to look as sincere as a news anchor.
"Okay Edison, I think we're ready." Theora keyed up the latest transmissions received.
The playback started out with a snippet of classical music and pictures of paintings. The narration was in a familiar, deadpan tone. "Today I will read to you from Pride and Prejudice. This work was written in the early 1800's, it tells the tale of a family of five sisters and their attempts to marry wealthy gentlemen. The novel is important in literature not just because it is a slice of history from that time, but because the dialog is so clever..."
"I know that voice..." Edison mused.
"Ah yes, my beloved." Max said, affecting a dreamy look.
"Daria? Max, what is going on?"
"Edison, don't you get it? They've been producing their own educational programming." Theora watched the monitor in admiration.
"Wow. That's actually interesting; and check it out, no ads. Cool." Wally watched on with his guests.
"Ads?" Edison waited to be elucidated.
"Right. When I was in school..."
"Yesterday?" Edison couldn't help himself.
"Well, pretty close to yesterday," he continued, "Our classroom was more like a focus group. One Zik Zak burger plus another Zik Zak burger equals two Zik Zak burgers. You get the idea. There is a bit of educational content, but mostly it's just a way of getting brand loyalty. They serve Zik Zak for lunch in the cafeteria, you watch educational programs that use Zik Zak as examples, you interact with the program for a grade. Questions like, 'True or False, I prefer strawberry to mango.' I was pretty happy to get to tech school."
"I don't doubt it." Theora said emphatically.
Edison tried to wrap his mind around it. "So why would they risk their jobs to do this?"
"They're dedicated. I guess one of them picked up the camera when you left it someplace, and they decided to put it to good use." Theora smiled. Maybe public school was going to improve.
"But wouldn't the sponsor miss their demographic and marketing information?" Edison asked.
"Ah, you'd think so, w-w-wouldn't you?" Max interjected.
"Edison, I've been looking at the encoding on this program. They've added that at the end. It's not authentic, but it's there. According to what I've just read, the next Zik Zak shake flavor is going to be," he giggled, "liver."
"Wouldn't someone notice the change?"
"Well sure, but who would do anything about it? The teachers wouldn't. The students wouldn't know any better. As long as the sponsor got what they paid for, I don't think they'd raise a red flag. This is brilliant in its simplicity." Bryce's admiration for public school teachers became elevated.
Edison didn't know what to do with the information. Clearly there had been some malfeasance, but by all accounts it was for the better, not to harm anyone. "But what about my camera?"
Max sighed. It was a heavy, protracted affair. "Edison, is it always about you?"
"That's the pot calling the kettle black." Edison said ruefully.
"Two hearts that beat as one, I'm afraid." Max sallied back. Edison wasn't really going to win an argument with Max.
"That's weird," said Wally. It's like you're almost talking to yourself."
Theora laughed, "It is, isn't it?"
"Seriously, Murray is going to have my ass unless I can come up with a damn good reason for why we haven't found that camera. Especially if Bryce keeps giving transmission reports on it."
"You know, I can explain how to suppress the signal reflection so that I can't pick it up." Bryce offered.
"So no signal, no problem?"
"At least from Murray's point of view. If there is no signal, then there's nothing to contradict the fact that the camera had been parted out." Bryce added helpfully.
"But the metros were involved. Those guys are like a dog with a bone." Edison was buying it, but he wanted all of the loose ends tied up.
"I wouldn't worry about them." Rutt came into the room.
"How'd you get in here?" Wally demanded.
"Hush. It's not important. Let's just say that Network 23 needed to check up on one of their satellite customers. MOE uses our equipment sometimes. I'm here to make sure it's all...kosher." Rutt smiled charmingly. "Those are my metros and they do what I tell them to. I should have known that we wouldn't be able to keep you off the scent. I had hoped that you would have trusted me to take care of the situation, but Mr. Carter, you persist in nosing around." Rutt picked a piece of lint off of his suit.
"How are you involved?"
"Mr. Carter, it's polite to at least try to hide your contempt." Rutt continued, "Don't worry. Let's just say that I have an interest in this project."
"You know one of my girlfriends?" Max got it before Edison did.
"I know both of your girlfriends, and I must say that you have excellent taste. I myself often have a hard time deciding which one I prefer." He walked over to the monitor where Daria's voice was still heard over the rich music and the paintings.
"Dream on Upchuck." Daria's voice carried over the servers from the other end of the room.
"This is some secure set up." Edison observed.
Wally shrugged. "We're not all that concerned with security."
"Apparently." Theora added.
"Ah, Daria my pet, I'm glad you're here." Rutt extended his arm to her. "And you've brought the lovely Miss Lane as well."
"Knock it off Upchuck." Daria walked over to the monitor.
"That's telling him!" Max exclaimed.
"Hey, that broadcasts really well," she said, admiring her handiwork. "And it will broadcast next Thursday." Daria looked around the room, waiting for someone to contradict her. "That's what I thought."
"Look, you don't know what it's like being a teacher," Jane explained. "If you're dedicated, you can't just watch those corporate clowns mock the profession. We don't have much to work with, but we do the best with what we've got."
"Admirable," Rutt smiled charmingly.
Edison looked at the young executive, "you're helping them?"
"Why not? It's a good cause and I can use my tiny bit of influence to improve the lives of school children..."
"Right. Upchuck thinks that we can turn our shows into viable network properties. The only reason he's helping is that we can get ratings in school first and then he can move them onto Network 23 once he's established an audience." Daria rolled her eyes.
"I underestimated you," Edison said to Rutt. "You are sneakier than I gave you credit for."
"Never underestimate the deviousness of a network executive," Rutt said confidently.
"I won't now." Theora added.
"Just one question. Where was the camera?" Edison had to know.
Jane's eyes looked to Daria and Rutt, he nodded and she spoke. "It was in the wall behind that large oil painting. I cut a hole into the dry wall, and we made a hardwire connection into the network that way."
"Oh," Edison was appeased, "Well, that's it then. I guess you'll be keeping the camera then."
"So everyone here agrees, the shows run, as scheduled." Jane looked around at the nodding heads. "Good, now who wants to buy us dinner? Upchuck, I think you owe us. You can put it on your expense account."
***
Edison was sitting in his apartment on a rare night that he stayed in. He was watching Smart Guys, the educational show. Daria and Jane took turns enlightening their audience on all kinds of topics, art history, literature, physics, everything found a home with them. While their audience wasn't as large as the audience for Baseball Assaults, but their demographic was good and it seemed that they had a bright future as television presenters. There was talk around the network about developing a morning show for the two of them. Charles Rutt was recently named Vice President of Programming and he championed projects for the two young ladies.
"So Edison, can I pick girlfriends or what?" Max popped in during an ad to gloat.
"You do a better job than I do," Edison admitted.
"I've got my eye on someone for you. Maybe we c-c-can double sometime?"
"In your case, wouldn't it be triple?"
"Well no. It turns out that Daria is involved with Rutt. Jane has taken up with one of your colleagues and I am: alone again, naturally. But maybe if I fix you up, you can fix me up?" Max's eyebrows moved up and down.
"It depends, who did you have in mind?"
"Well for you, the lovely and talented Theora. For me, I'm thinking the soft drink machine in the snack room."
"Maybe Max, you never know."