Chapter 33: The Midgar Mirror 3: Reassessment
Lana Vale, self-described star reporter for The Midgar Mirror, watched cynically as the digital forensics manager ranted while pacing back and forth before their boss's desk. Every so often he'd raise his voice and wave his arms.
What an embarrassment. Thank goodness the office door was closed.
"We didn't miss anything!" Hayato Antonov practically shouted at Editor-in-Chief Lois Jameson. He paused long enough to glower at the thumb drive on her desktop and then started pacing again.
"Sit down, Hayato," Lois told him.
He didn't even glance at the empty chair in front of her desk and pointedly ignored the glares Lana kept shooting at him from her own seat.
"Obviously, you and your team must have missed something," Lois said, scowling and tapping out an erratic rhythm with her fingers. She glared at her hands. The fingers stilled. "It's not a big issue, though. The Mirror's owners actually think this could—"
Lana interrupted, hissing in her frustration, "Exposed by The Gaia Express, of all the second-rate rags. We'll never live it down."'
"My team is better than that," Hayato insisted. "We were thorough!"
"Well, something must have gone wrong. Maybe the software glitched," Lana groused. She folded her arms and slumped awkwardly. Her scoop of the year, ruined. All because of a screw-up by Hayato's team, an unreliable spite-letter from some anonymous source with a grudge, and the sketchy history of a minor porn publisher. She should have known it was too good to be true.
"You were the one who wanted a rush job!" Hayato accused, pointing at her. She rose, fists clenched.
"Sit down! Both of you!" Lois bellowed.
Reluctantly, Lana resettled back in her chair. Hayato's face twisted into a mulish expression, but he finally stopped stomping around and sat down. Both stared daggers at each other like schoolyard adversaries.
"Knock it off, you two," Lois said irritably. She looked to Hayato. "Has your team had a chance to retest the image?"
Hayato frowned. "Yes."
"And the results?"
"The same as the Express got," he admitted with venom. "I don't understand what happened! We ran the exact same tests last time. They showed the picture was real. And this time, that it's fake! The exact same tests!"
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely! I kept every single result file. Last time we ran those tests multiple times and got nothing. This time the initial analyses were fine, but the deep scans lit up like the downtown shopping district during Winterfest. I don't get it."
A calculating expression crossed Lois's features. "I have a theory. I don't like it, and neither will either of you."
Lana gasped as the ramifications came together all at once. She knew. She knew. "Shinra!"
"Yes."
Hayato looked at both of them. "Shinra? What's going on?"
"That grade A slab of beef we outed is one of their shining stars," Lois stated, drumming her fingers again.
"Oh, damn." Understanding dawned on Hayato's face. He leaned back in his chair. "I can't believe I didn't make the connection," he muttered.
"Hewley's famous for his squeaky clean reputation," Lana added cynically. "It's not real, obviously, but Shinra's protecting it anyway. Protecting their investment in him."
"Agreed. We all got too excited about that picture," Lois consoled them. "Lana, you know we discussed the possibility that Shinra might not be happy with this particular exposé."
"But how did they hack us? How did they manage to change out all the files?" Hayato asked. "We kept our masters offline!"
"You're kidding, right?" Lana said, cocking an eyebrow. "They've got the best thieves money can buy. I bet they broke in and did whatever they wanted with all our records."
"Undoubtedly," Lois agreed. "Hayato, try checking unauthorized download sites as soon as you're free. I'm willing to bet that every copy of that picture available anywhere online has been altered to look fake." She tapped her teeth in sudden irritation. "I bet they've screwed with our backups, too. They wouldn't forget that. Be sure to check those as well."
"Even our backups?" Hayato said.
Lois nodded. "We've been set up by the best experts on the Planet. I doubt they've left anything alone, but we'll need to tighten our data security regardless."
Lana chewed her lip in contemplation. Lois was an old hand at this business and, Lana suspected, had more than a mere academic understanding of corporate espionage. The situation for the Mirror—and their continuing careers—seemed dire. "So what happens now?"
"Shinra's going to want a retraction," Hayato stated, folding his arms. "You know they will. Probably front and center as a headline. We won't be able to bury it in the back half of the paper."
Lois pursed her lips. "Actually, they haven't demanded anything like that yet, which I find surprising and suspicious." She picked up the thumb drive and rotated it through her fingers. "They're probably playing with us, waiting for even more sources to denounce us, and letting the damage to our reputation get really entrenched." She set the thumb drive down and sneered at it. "I bet they're following a hard schedule, too. They've probably already figured out the exact date and time they'll lower the boom on us. But games like this require more than one player. We'll have our own strategy."
"You want to go to war with Shinra?" Lana asked, feeling her chest constrict. She blinked a few times as her mind scurried looking for ways to verbalize her trepidation.
"Not war," Lois said with a smile. "Never war. At least not openly. We're going to make lots of money. It's what we do."
"That centerfold did drive our circulation numbers through the roof," Lana said, staring over Lois's shoulder and now considering the advantages of taking a passive-aggressive approach to the current quagmire.
"Oh, yeah. It made the Mirror a fortune," said Lois. "I'd like to hang onto that advantage for a little longer. It'll make our corporate masters very, very happy. There's nothing they like better than gobs of money. We can get away with pretty much anything as long as it results in gigantic piles of gil."
"Have you heard from upstairs?" Lana asked with concern. "I thought I heard you mention the owners before I, um..." She didn't want to admit she'd shouted over the top of her editor just a few minutes ago about that very same topic.
"Yes, I did. They want us to keep our numbers golden." Lois shrugged. "The top-level owners like money a lot. No reprimands so far. In fact, their representatives have passed along encouragement—though always subject to official denials, naturally. They know our business sometimes has its little risks and the individual I spoke to earlier gave me the impression they're willing to accept them as long as the rewards continue to stack up."
"How long can it go on, though?" asked Hayato.
"Until Shinra officially demands a retraction, of course," Lois said smugly. "In the meantime, our readers will get their fill of insinuation and scandal, our circulation numbers will be great, the Mirror's profit margins will continue to increase, and the owners will be thrilled."
Lana frowned. "We can't continue with the Barely Legal angle. Not under the current circumstances. No one will take us seriously. So how do we keep our momentum?"
"Most of our readers formed their own opinions the very day we first published the Hewley centerfold," Lois pointed out. "A big reveal like the Express just did? It won't change many minds. People want to believe the worst. They love seeing icons toppled from pedestals. A percentage will reconsider, but a lot of others will instead dig in and refuse to admit they bought into a load of chocobo shit. Hells, they'll probably defend us!"
"You don't think Shinra'll destroy us?" Hayato definitely looked worried. "I read Lana's notes. The way Barely Legal's publisher suddenly went under—it was pretty suspicious."
"We've got full authorization from the owners to change the focus and direction. They don't even care if it's one hundred percent fictional this time." Lois folded her hands and nodded. "We have to make the most of this story while we've still got the chance. Even if it means we put out some extra editions and offer some free online content to whet appetites. Lana, I want you to expand your idea for the internal dissent story you submitted last week. It was a good one, so I took the liberty of running it up the chain to the owners. The representative I spoke with said they loved it and showed interest in seeing how the public might receive it."
Lana smiled slowly at the thought. It was one of her ideas for follow-up stories, and while it would push her creative talents hard, it would be so worth it. "You really think our readers would buy it?"
"They love mudslinging," Lana said pragmatically. "We'll make Shinra sorry they've discredited the original story. That centerfold was nothing more than an unimportant, teenage mistake on Hewley's part, and people would have forgiven him for it fairly quickly. Especially if he had apologized and expressed public remorse. But he didn't. And now? Hah!"
"What about my other story ideas?" Lana asked. Her imagination had run wild, and she had presented Lois with a folder stuffed full of them.
"Absolutely not. Sorry, but under the present circumstances, most would come across as too malicious to Hewley. We need to steer this narrative more skillfully than that."
That was disappointing, but Lana could roll with it. "So, the internal dissent angle. I can do that."
"We've only got limited time, so do your best."
And by best, Lana was sure Lois meant "worst." Her satisfied smile became a grin.
Lois added, "We won't fight any official or legal requests from Shinra. We're just going to publish some more related stories, create a new narrative. But only until they explicitly tell us to stop. Then we'll stop." She tilted her head at the thumb drive. "And it'll be very amicable. We'll do whatever they tell us to do without a single argument."
"Even if it's a front page retraction?" Lana asked.
"Especially if it's a front page retraction." Lois uttered an evil little laugh. "I'm sure you know just how to write such a thing."
Lana grinned. She did, indeed, know exactly how to slant even an official retraction to her employer's benefit, how to say, "we're sorry" without losing face, how to imply that the tabloid was only apologizing because of the jackboot on its proverbial neck—and get big circulation numbers in the process.
Yes, she was just that good, wasn't she? She barely stopped herself from preening.
The disaster that had seemed the end of the world—and her career—now appeared as though it might have a mythril lining.
Next time: The Turks Versus Chitose Lafferty!