Netcast: Zero

by Ryk Brown

  “Something happened. You learned something new, didn’t you?” Graham could see it in her eyes.

  “You’re not going to believe this,” Hanna warned.

  “Try me.”

  Hanna looked directly at Graham. “During the interview, I started receiving messages from someone.”

  “Who?”

  “There was no ID tag. It just said ‘Unknown’.”

  “Did you check the…”

  “No source codes, no routing codes. And each text was a new message, so he was probably routing them all over the world.”

  “How do you know it was a guy?”

  “I guess I don’t really.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He wanted me to ask if there was a connection between Twister and Klaria.”

  Graham’s head shifted back in disbelief. “Really?” his head turned slightly to his right, and the left side of his face squinted. “Why you?”

  “He knew, Graham.”

  “He knew what?”

  “He knew that I had already pursued that line of questioning with Doctor Benarro, and Tri-State never aired that footage.”

  “So what?” Graham said. “We uploaded that footage over the public nets, Hanna. Any punk hacker could have gotten a copy.”

  “And could any punk hacker wipe the source and ID codes from his messages?”

  “Well, not any, but it’s not impossible,” Graham admitted. “Still, it was just some punk having some fun with you. Or someone trying to get you to stir up some controversy. Either way, it’s not that big a deal.”

  Hanna paused, unsure of herself. She looked down at her tea cup again, then back up at Graham, looking him directly in the eyes. “He said Doctor Benarro was going to die of a heart attack, moments before he actually did.”

  Graham said nothing, his brow furrowing. After a moment, he sighed. “I’ve heard of people hacking the health nanite monitoring stream before. It’s not easy, but it’s not impossible. Maybe he just saw it coming and used it to his advantage?”

  “Or maybe he had control of Doctor Benarro’s nanites.”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Hanna,” Graham argued. “Our implants control our health nanites. They can’t be remote controlled. Your physician sends them instructions, and they either comply or refuse based on your current condition. There are safety protocols that prevent our health nanites from causing harm to us. Hell, Hanna, he could have been watching the press conference and simply noticed that Doctor Benarro didn’t look right and simply guessed. It was a live broadcast, you know.”

  “That’s a hell of a lucky guess, Graham,” Hanna argued.

  “Yeah, you are right about that.”

  “He said, ‘I wrote it, I control it.’”

  Graham looked puzzled. “Wrote what?”

  “Since he said that the Twister virus causes Klaria in his messages, I assumed he was talking about Twister.”

  “But Twister just messes things up, doesn’t it? Crashes systems, causes data loss…”

  “That could simply be a front to hide its real intent.”

  Graham shook his head in disbelief. “Can you forward me those messages?”

  “I checked my inbox. They’re gone. They must have been set to auto-delete.”

  “You should have force-saved them,” Graham told her.

  “I know, I know. I was just so freaked out that by the time I thought of it they were already gone. I’ve been hiding out here for over an hour. I don’t know what to do, Graham.”

  “Well, the first thing you have to do is tell Arielle,” Graham insisted.

  “Are you kidding? That’s the last thing I want to do. She’ll think I’m making this all up to convince her to let me chase the Twister-Klaria connection again to boost my ratings. If she leaves…”

  “She’s not going to leave, Hanna. She needs a paycheck just as much as you do.”

  “No, she doesn’t,” Hanna explained. “She’s got a fiancé back in San Diego. He’s an attorney, on his way to full partner.”

  “Well, if she does leave, just self-produce,” Graham argued. “Then you can chase the money all the way to the pop-nets, if you want. You might even be able to slip into producing for them before your looks go south.”

  “Such a way with words you have,” Hanna replied. “I know nothing about producing. Hell, the majority of the questions I ask come from either the client or Arielle. I’m just the on-air talent.”

  “No, you’re not. You are a reporter, Hanna. You had a hunch, and you followed it. That’s what good reporters do. It’s not really your fault that Benarro flipped out over your questions. That was just bad luck.”

  “Or a bad hunch.”

  “Look, Hanna, just be straight with Arielle. If this guy is a hoax, it will become obvious pretty quickly. All you have to do is call his bluff.”

  “And if he isn’t a hoax?”

  “Then Arielle is really going to want to know, trust me.”

  Hanna shook her head. “No, I can’t tell her, not yet.” She looked at Graham again. “And you can’t either… Promise me.”

  “Fine, I promise. But when we go back, jack me into your comm-stream so that I can see the messages as you do, before they auto-delete. At least that way you’ll have a witness.”

  “Okay, I will.”

  “All right then,” Graham said, leaning back in his seat and taking another drink of his coffee. “Finish your tea, we have to go.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re reconvening the press conference in less than an hour.”

  * * *

  “While we mourn the loss of our friend and colleague, Doctor Benarro would have insisted that we do not let his passing interfere with our mission as physicians, which is the saving of lives.” Doctor Mesnard paused a moment before continuing.

  Message; Graham: the text typed across Hanna’s personal visual space as she thought the words. Are our comms linked?

  Reply: I see all your incoming and outgoing text messages, unless you tag ones not directed at me as ‘private.’

  Message; Graham: Will I see your messages? Hanna wondered. Although she had often shared private chat streams with Arielle, she had never shared her inbox with anyone before, and certainly not with someone that she had only known for a short time.

  Reply: Only my messages to you.

  Message; Graham: Why? You got something to hide?

  Reply: Plenty. But that’s not why. I get status data from the vid-kit through my text messages. A lot of them. I’m used to it, but it would distract the hell out of you.

  “As of an hour ago, the Klaria outbreak in Sorel has claimed a total of seven hundred and four lives. In addition, another fifty-seven new cases have been reported in Sorel, although they have yet to be confirmed as Klaria. Furthermore, we are now getting reports of Klaria cases popping up in Joliette to the west, and Trois-Rivières to the north.”

  Again, hands shot up and reporters started yelling out questions. Again, Doctor Mesnard started with Constance.

  “Constance Gerard, Netcast News World. How many cases have been reported in Joliette and Trois-Rivières, and does this mean that the outbreak is widening?”

  Message; Arielle: What the hell? Is she sleeping with him, or something?

  Reply: Focus.

  “Early reports from Joliette are twenty-seven cases in the last two hours, and Trois-Rivières reports eleven cases. Neither cities are reporting any fatalities as of yet. However, at this time, we are widening the Sorel outbreak zone to include those cities as well.”

  “Is it headed for Montreal?” Constance asked.

  “We have no idea where the Klaria virus is heading,” Doctor Mesnard admitted. “At this point, we still have
n’t confirmed how this particular outbreak is being transmitted. Thus far, we have evidence of transmission by both air and bodily fluids, but we also have numerous cases where neither transmission method could be attributed. We have cases that are simply popping up for no reason… at least none that have yet been determined.”

  From; Unknown: They know, they’re just not saying.

  Oh, God, Hanna thought.

  “Mike Monroe, Euro News, if you don’t know how it’s being transmitted, how are you going to prevent it from spreading?”

  From; Unknown: They can’t, not without admitting that it’s their own fault.

  “The city of Sorel is now under full quarantine,” Doctor Mesnard said.

  Reply: What do you mean? Who’s fault? Hanna quickly switched message targets. Message; Graham: Tell me you’re seeing all this!

  “…No one leaves or enters the city, until the outbreak is concluded,” Doctor Mesnard continued.

  From Graham: I am. Keep him talking. Get as much information as you can from him.

  “…We expect to be doing the same in Joliette and Trois-Rivières before the end of the day, just as a precaution. Montreal is quite close to Joliette, and a quarantine around Montreal and the surrounding area would be a difficult proposition, at best.”

  From; Unknown: Mercer Industries, the GDCO, the AMA, EMA, every last one of them knew, but they still went ahead with the implant upgrades, all in the name of increasing the general health and welfare of the public… Bullshit! All they did when they gave control of the health nanites to our neuro-digital implants, instead of our physicians, was increase their profit margins. That’s all they ever really cared about.

  Reply: Maybe they didn’t realize it? Hanna suggested, trying to draw out the conversation while Doctor Mesnard continued to answer questions.

  From; Unknown: They knew. They were warned, yet they choose to ignore the truth.

  Reply: Why should I believe you? You killed an innocent man a few hours ago, just to prove a point.

  From; Unknown: I didn’t kill him, his life-style killed him. His diet killed him. His lack of physical exercise killed him. The very technology that is supposed to keep us all healthy, happy, and dumb… that’s what killed him. I simply used his nanites to speed up the process.

  Reply: Twister gives you access to our implants? That’s how you killed him? With his nanites?

  “At this point in time, the GDCO is recommending that all citizens within ten kilometers of the affected cities shelter-in-place, and avoid contact with anyone,” Doctor Mesnard continued.

  From; Unknown: Ask the question.

  Reply: Or what? Are you going to kill me next?

  From; Unknown: Why not? There are fifty other reporters in this room. I suspect I could get any one of them to ask the question. But I choose you.

  Reply: Why me?

  From; Unknown: Because I like you, Hanna.

  Hanna felt another chill go down her spine. Images of documents began appearing in Hanna’s personal visual space. The documents came and went so quickly that Hanna couldn’t make out what they were. She could, however, see photographs of faces, perhaps the faces of the individuals referred to in the documents.

  From; Graham: They’re medical records, Graham explained as the records continue to flash.

  Constance, Hanna thought, recognizing her photograph on one of the records as it flashed in and out of her visual space. Reply; Graham: It’s for the people in this room, Hanna messaged. They all had to be submitted before any of us were allowed to attend. He’s hacked into the GDCO.

  The medical records suddenly stopped flashing, with one last record showing. Hanna saw her own image on the medical record.

  From; Unknown: Does your head hurt?

  Hanna felt a dull ache forming in the front of her head.

  From; Unknown: How about your abdomen? A touch of nausea, perhaps?

  Hanna’s intestines felt like they suddenly shifted, and nausea swept over her like a tidal wave.

  From; Unknown: It would be awfully embarrassing if you were to evacuate your bowels right about now.

  Reply: Why are you doing this? Hanna asked, holding her gut with both arms as she bent forward to try and relieve the pain in her abdomen.

  From; Unknown: Ask the question.

  From; Graham: Do it, Hanna, or he’s going to kill you!

  The dull ache in her head became worse, as two more medical records appeared in her personal visual space. The records belonged to her parents. He’s into the entire health system, she realized.

  From; Arielle: For God’s sake, Hanna, ask the question!

  Reply: Ari?

  From; Unknown: You should listen to your friends, Hanna.

  From; Graham: Sorry, kid, I had to tell her. She’s linked in as well.

  From; Arielle: Do it, Hanna! Do it!

  Hanna struggled to her feet, one hand still on her gut, and the other one in the air like all the other reporters in the room.

  From; Unknown: I’m not going to ask you again, Hanna.

  Reply: I’m trying! The pain in Hanna’s head disappeared, and her nausea subsided. Hanna managed to stand up straight again, and began waving and shouting in a vain attempt to attract the attention of Doctor Mesnard over all the other reporters in the room.

  From; Unknown: Good. Let me help you.

  One by one, the other reporters stopped shouting. Several of them brought their hands down as well, while several more quickly sat down as they were overcome with various discomforts of their own.

  Hanna noticed the sudden change in the number of voices vying for attention, and redoubled her efforts. Finally, Doctor Mesnard pointed at her.

  “Hanna Bohl, Quebec News. Is it possible that the Twister virus and the Klaria virus are connected?”

  Doctor Mesnard appeared surprised by Hanna’s question. “There are multiple safeguards in place to prevent unauthorized access to the global health monitoring and control network. These safeguards were put into place decades ago, when the monitoring program was removed from the physicians’ office to the network, for the benefit of all humanity. I believe that the vastly improved health the human race has experienced since then is proof enough.”

  From; Unknown: He did not answer the question.

  “You didn’t answer the question,” Hanna said.

  “I believe we addressed that issue publicly more than ten months ago, when it was first brought up,” Doctor Mesnard replied. “Miss Ball, was it?” he added, his tone becoming condescending.

  More medical documents began to flood her personal space.

  From; Unknown: Then why did the entire staff of the GDCO have their NDIs reverted to older versions ten months ago? Versions that were unable to control their health nanites.

  “Bohl, Hanna Bohl,” she corrected. With her pain and nausea gone, and armed with new information, Hanna felt her confidence growing by the second. “So, you’re saying that there is no way that the Twister virus, and the Klaria virus, could be related, and that it is impossible for the Twister virus to be the cause of the Klaria virus?”

  The room seemed eerily quiet. Hanna glanced around her. Whatever illnesses Mister Unknown had inflicted upon them to shut them up had all but subsided by now, yet they were all deathly silent, with their attention riveted on her.

  “That is correct,” Doctor Mesnard replied with absolute confidence.

  Hanna’s pause seemed an eternity.

  “Then why is it that every doctor, every bureaucrat, every technician, every… every member of your organization, had their neuro-digital implants replaced with older versions that could not control the host’s health nanites, ten months ago, after announcing publicly that the Twister and Klaria viruses could not be connected?”

  The
room exploded, as every reporter in the room leapt to their feet, waving their hands at Doctor Mesnard as they fired questions at him, most of them demanding a response to Hanna’s question.

  “The decision to downgrade the neuro-digital implants at the time was in no way related to the Klaria outbreaks!” Doctor Mesnard shouted above the barrage of questions. “It was a routine maintenance issue due to a faulty batch of implants. The manufacturer did not have enough product to replace the faulty units, so…”

  It was too late. The crowd of reporters was out of control, and wasn’t buying Doctor Mesnard’s answer. Several reporters next to Hanna started firing questions at her as well, asking her how she knew about the downgrading of the GDCO’s implants. Within seconds, Hanna found herself at the center of a whole new controversy, and the unrestrained crowd of reporters threatened to close in on her now that Doctor Mesnard no longer offered anything of interest that could compare.

  From; Graham: GET OUT! NOW! Get out of the building, turn off your implant, and head for the hotel! You too, Arielle. We’ll meet there!

  As Hanna pressed her way through the reporters barking at her, one last message flashed across her personal visual space.

  From; Unknown: Thank you, Hanna. You did well. However, I suggest you prepare yourself. It’s going to be a wild ride.

  * * *

  Hanna and Arielle woke the next morning to the sound of someone pounding furiously on their hotel room door. Hanna opened her eyes and checked the time displayed in the upper left corner of her personal visual space. It was just after six in the morning. Below the time, the warning ‘no connections’ flashed repeatedly, reminding Hanna how on Graham’s insistence, they had shut down their connections to all networks, essentially ‘going dark’ to the rest of the world.