Fall of the Core: Netcast 02 (The Frontiers Saga Book 3) Read online

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  FALL OF THE CORENETCAST: 02

  The Frontiers Saga

  Fall of the Core

  Netcast: 02

  Copyright © 2017 by Ryk Brown All rights reserved.

  First Edition

  Cover and Formatting by Streetlight Graphics

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

  FALL OF THE CORE

  NETCAST: 02

  “Good Morning. I’m Hanna Bohl, and this is the NCN World Report.” Hanna turned toward the next camera to her left as the cue light snapped on. By now, she was getting the rhythm of the broadcasts; when to change cameras; when to pause for dramatic effect; when to add personal commentary… There was a flow to reading the headlines on camera that was very much different from doing interviews or reporting live from the field. It was more polished, more choreographed. It was less her, and more what the world expected her to be. At first, it had been uncomfortable. She was accustomed to being herself, for the most part. Although, admittedly, that had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion. But it had also gotten her the very job she had always dreamed of; albeit not under the circumstances she would have preferred. She had dreamed of being the person who delivered the news to the entire world every night, which was precisely what she was doing. Unfortunately, that news was always bad. Instead of being the voice of the news, she was now the voice of the end of the world as they knew it. The face that ushered in the fall of civilization on Earth.

  At least she was in here, where it was safe.

  “It is now day fourteen of the bio-digital plague, and for the first time since the outbreak of the virus, the Global Disease Control Organization is reporting a decline in the number of new cases being reported worldwide. Officials credit the reduction to the decision to shut down the internet, and law enforcement agencies are still working to locate and shut down the smaller, rogue networks that continue to pop up all over the globe. Despite the reduction in new cases, with the death toll at six billion people, half the world’s population has now succumbed to the disease, and another three billion are infected. While there are still numerous reports of infected persons actually recovering, these reports still represent less than one percent. The GDCO is carefully studying all those who have recovered, as well as those exposed who did not contract the disease, in the hopes of discovering a cure for the Klaria virus.”

  Hanna turned to her right, skipping the center camera, as instructed in the teleprompter. “The Mars agricultural colony is now reporting a total of four hundred and eighty-seven cases of the Klaria virus. Officials have determined that the virus was transported to Mars by infected persons who traveled from Earth just prior to the outbreak. How the virus went undetected by the Mars customs bio-screening systems has yet to be determined. Experts credit the much slower spread of the virus on Mars to the colony’s compartmentalized structure, and the fact that immediate steps were taken to quarantine all those exposed once the presence of the virus was detected. Mars Disease Control expects the virus to remain contained within the three currently infected sectors. However, until a method is found for insuring that bio-scans for the Klaria virus are accurate, Mars officials have closed the colony to all travelers. Mars officials have assured the people of Earth that grain shipments will continue, as needed.”

  Hanna turned to face the center camera. “Today, the Human Historical Institute announced that they are disconnecting the Data Ark from all data input stations located outside the Ark facility itself. The Ark facility is currently being staffed by those who have had their neuro-digital implants removed, and have tested negative for the Klaria virus after passing the weeklong incubation quarantine. These staffers will live and work within the sealed facility, inputting data received via analog sources into the Ark’s databases. These measures were taken to ensure that the Ark remains operational for the duration of the crisis.”

  Arielle and Graham stood in the control room, watching as Hanna continued her morning broadcast.

  “The British government announced today that they will be discontinuing all humanitarian aid to its citizens, effective immediately. With resources rapidly dwindling, and work forces either falling ill to the Klaria virus or failing to report to work for fear of exposure, the British government is forced to concentrate its remaining workforce to only essential services, such as public safety and basic infrastructure.”

  “She really is getting the hang of it,” Graham commented as Hanna continued her report. “She’s only been at it for five days now, but she looks every bit as polished as Constance was.”

  “Hanna’s always been a quick learner,” Arielle said. “And she’s been reviewing her broadcasts afterwards and taking notes on how to improve.”

  “Well, it’s working, believe me. She’s shed all that pesky cuteness she had when you first hired me,” Graham replied. “Good thing, too, cuz it was damned annoying.”

  “That cuteness is what got us jobs all these years,” Arielle admitted.

  “It’s what held you back,” Graham insisted, looking at Arielle, “and you know it. I’m surprised you never beat it out of her.”

  “I tried, believe me. But there was so much competition for the real stories, and the fluff paid so well…”

  Graham sighed. “Yup. Some things never change.”

  Arielle looked guilty. “You know how it is. You get stuck in a grind…a vicious cycle that you can’t get out of. You get used to your life, and something new scares you. Hanna liked being cute. I know that deep down inside she wanted to be more, but cute was comfortable for her.”

  “You could have pushed her harder,” Graham said.

  “I know, but to be honest, ever since I met Sahmeed, I’ve been thinking more and more about calling it quits.”

  “Completely?”

  “Yup. Once we get married. Sahmeed makes very good money, and I could get a job teaching.”

  “Live a normal life,” Graham surmised, a slight guffaw spilling out of him.

  “Lots of people do it,” Arielle countered, noticing his contempt.

  “Lots of normal people,” Graham quickly corrected. “Normal as in boring. Trust me, I tried it. You’d go nuts in a matter of months.”

  “Maybe,” Arielle sighed, “maybe not.”

  “Interstellar shipping giant, Stellar Express, announced the first of a series of deep-space colonization missions. These missions will deliver between one thousand and ten thousand colonists, as well as equipment and provisions, to unexplored, hospitable worlds located well outside the Sol sector. The missions are expected to take between five and twenty-five years to reach their destinations, many of which are more than one hundred light years away. While such missions involve considerable risk, many people are selling off their possessions to purchase tickets. Critics of the idea accuse Stellar Express of attempting to cash in on the current crisis. When questioned, a spokesperson for Stellar Express insisted that they are simply putting their reserve fleet into action to help
preserve the human race. The company promises to donate twenty percent of all revenue from the missions to the GDCO, to help find a cure for the Klaria virus. Since the announcement from Stellar Express, several smaller interstellar shipping companies have offered similar missions for considerably cheaper fares. Officials are warning consumers to check the manifests of these lower-fare missions, to ensure that they are adequately equipped and provisioned in accordance with the guidelines set forth by the Interstellar Colonization Treaty.”

  “Can you believe that crap?” Arielle said in disbelief. “Trying to make a profit off the panicked masses. It’s pathetic.”

  “It’s smart business, is what it is,” Graham argued.

  “Why am I not surprised that you’d feel that way.”

  “He’s right,” Brent agreed, entering the control room. “Stellar Express will make a killing, even after the cost of getting their reserve fleet flight ready.”

  “I thought those ships were past their prime,” Arielle argued. “That they weren’t safe to use any longer?”

  “They can be used in times of emergency,” Brent explained. “That’s why they keep them around, and I’m pretty sure the current crisis meets everyone’s definition of ‘an emergency’.”

  “But aren’t those ships more than a hundred years old?” Arielle wondered.

  “Most of them, yes. But so are most of the ones in current service. Ever since they came up with multi-layered EM shielding, the hull service life of interstellar transports has greatly increased. Fifty-year hulls are now certified for one hundred years, if properly equipped and maintained. Slap good MLEM shields on those ships, and they’ll get the job done just as well as one right out of the shipyards…and at a fraction of the cost.”

  “But aren’t they slower?”

  “If you’re in suspended animation, who cares?” Graham commented.

  “But one hundred years?” Arielle couldn’t fathom the idea of being asleep that long. “Everyone they know will be dead and gone.”

  “That’s already happening, Ari,” Brent pointed out. “They’re just trying to escape the inevitable.”

  “By running away?” Arielle questioned. “I don’t think they realize how difficult starting over on an undeveloped world will truly be.”

  “More difficult than trying to survive here, with everything falling apart around them?” Graham argued. “Seems a wash to me. Plus, they’re less likely to become infected.”

  “But there is so much more that could go wrong, on the journey alone, if not after they get there…if they get there.”

  “Look at the odds here on Earth,” Brent insisted. “Half the population is dead, and in just two weeks. Another quarter is infected…”

  “But the infection rate is slowing,” Arielle argued.

  “But it hasn’t stopped. It will eventually, of course, but how many more of us will die before then?”

  “Then, you’d go?” Arielle asked.

  “No, but I’ve got resources of my own…resources that most people don’t have. And I’m pretty much sequestered here, so my exposure risk is minimal.”

  “What about Constance?” Arielle pointed out. “We were all exposed because of her.”

  “True, but so far, only two people have become infected because of her. And for all we know, they got infected prior to the release, just like Constance.”

  “It’s been six days,” Graham reminded her. “GDCO says the incubation period is five.”

  “The same GDCO that tried to hide the risk from everyone?”

  “You get my point,” Graham insisted.

  “Medical is drawing blood from everyone daily,” Brent reminded her. “The moment anyone shows any signs of Klaria, they have orders to quarantine them, and isolate those who had regular contact. We’re safer here than anywhere else.”

  Arielle sighed. “I know that, Brent. It just bothers me that so many people are going to sell everything they own to buy a one-way ticket to an unknown, yet-to-be-surveyed world, where their chance of survival might be even less than if they had stayed. And these worlds are so far away that there will be no help if something goes wrong. Even worse, the government isn’t going to be able to stop them, or take any steps to ensure that these carriers aren’t just taking their money, and then sending them off into space, with no guarantee they’ll ever even reach a hospitable world.”

  “We’re talking Stellar Express, Ari,” Brent reminded her.

  “Today, yes. But there are already a few others offering the same, and with much lower standards from what I hear.”

  “Maybe that’s something we should investigate,” Brent said.

  “How?” Arielle questioned. “We’re all stuck in here.”

  “The quarantine period imposed on this facility expires tomorrow,” Brent said. “If we’re going to keep reporting the news, we’re going to have to go out there and find it. The more our infrastructure falls apart, the more that will become necessary. If we stay bottled up in this building, eventually we wouldn’t have a clue of what’s going on outside these walls.”

  “Are you asking us to go out in the field?” Graham wondered, looking excited.

  “Isn’t that what you do?”

  “What about Hanna’s netcasts?” Arielle wondered. “You’ve got her doing three broadcasts a day. She can’t do both.”

  “Now that Bob, Lee, and Jonas are here, we can cover the netcasts. Hanna has become the face of this crisis. She’s the one who uncovered the ugly truth. She needs to be out there, uncovering all the other ugly truths that this crisis will fester. She is the face that people trust.”

  “Cutesy, little Hanna Bohl,” Graham joked.

  Arielle looked concerned. “And if we get infected?”

  “Be careful. Mask up. Wear gloves, wash your hands, and all that stuff we’re constantly telling everyone to do,” Brent said. “There are millions of people out there, caring for the infected, day in and day out, and they’re not getting infected themselves. And it’s not like I’m asking you to interview those infected. I’m just asking you to go out there and show people what’s going on, instead of Hanna just telling them on a netcast.”

  “Real journalism,” Graham said, looking at Arielle. “Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”

  “No fluff?” she asked, looking intently at Brent.

  “This is NCN World. We don’t do fluff.”

  “I get to pick the stories?”

  “For the most part, yes,” Brent agreed. “But I get to make suggestions, and every once in a while, you have to take one of those suggestions. I am the one signing the checks, after all.”

  “Do I get a real production staff?”

  “Hell, I’ll give you a mobile production shuttle and full production teams, both here and in the field.”

  Arielle looked at Graham, who was grinning in the same manner as when they first interviewed him in virtual space. She looked at Hanna on the monitor as she signed off.

  “I’m Hanna Bohl, Netcast News World, New York.”

  Arielle looked at Brent again. “I have to speak to Hanna first.”

  “And if she agrees?” Brent wondered.

  “If she agrees, then we’ll do it.”

  * * *

  “Out there?” Hanna asked, pointing at the windows. “Is it safe?”

  “Is anywhere these days?” Graham asked.

  “You know what I mean,” Hanna snapped.

  “That was the first thing that crossed my mind, as well,” Arielle admitted. “But Brent’s right. Millions are out there, going about their lives and not getting infected.”

  “But they’re not getting infected because they’re staying away from everyone as much as possible, just like we’re doing by staying in here.”

 
“Hanna, half the world’s population is dead, and there still isn’t a cure,” Graham said. “This is the biggest crisis in all of human history. More people have died in the last week than in all the wars, natural disasters, you name it, combined. This plague is going to change the future of humanity in ways we can’t even imagine. Well, I could probably imagine it. I’m pretty twisted, really, but you know what I mean. Do you want to be the one sitting behind a desk telling it to the world, or do you want to be the one showing the world what is really going on out there? Because that’s what journalism is all about. I promise you, a thousand years from now, when historians are studying what happened, it will be the field reports they are looking at. The ones in full immersion, where they can look around and see everything…not the two-dimensional vids of some idiot sitting behind a desk, reading words on a teleprompter that were written by some other desk jockey.”

  “But this has always been my dream job,” Hanna said, looking at Arielle.

  “I know.”

  “No one remembers the anchors these days,” Graham pointed out. “They’re just an endless string of pretty people with good diction. Ecker Dills, Jana Deleon, Peta Desson, Brian McComb… Those names you remember, because they were out there… No suits, no wardrobe or stylists, no perfect lighting… They were in the shit, every day, bringing the viewers into the shit right along with them. I know, because I was there with them, and it was fucking glorious, because it was real.”

  “If we stay here, we’ll be safer,” Arielle admitted, “but we’ll be…you’ll be…just one of several faces that are reading the news each day. People will listen to you while they go about their lives. But if we go out there and show it to them, they won’t listen, they’ll watch. They’ll watch every moment, with undivided attention, because we’ll make sure they can’t turn their eyes away.”