The professor had a surprisingly young smile. “You’re surprised to speak to the head honcho rather than a receptionist?” he said lightly. “This isn’t exactly a multinational conglomerate yet. No receptionist so far. And I’m interested in seeing who seeks us out.”
“Well, I’m interested in talking to someone who wants to take on the news business,” Megan said, honestly enough. “The other magazines my Net search turned up seemed too…” she reached for a word.
“Schoolie?” Wellman suggested.
“Pretty close, although I didn’t expect a professor to say it,” she said. “I’m a Net Force Explorer, and I like to think of myself as a friend of Captain James Winters. Until recently he was pretty anonymous, just a regular guy, but you might have heard of him lately.”
Wellman looked a little less amused. His pale blue eyes grew sharper. “Like it or not, he’s become a figure in the news.”
“More like a target,” Megan said. “And the one who started everybody shooting at him is Tori Rush.”
“So you’d like to make her a target of ours?”
“Just a question or two. How’d she get all that dirt on Captain Winters? It was all old history, history that made the captain into a hero, not a criminal. Nobody else came up with that stuff, certainly, until she led them there. Who has she got digging?” Megan knew she was pushing her luck but hoped the result would be worth it.
“Has someone approached you?” Wellman seemed almost eager.
Megan shook her head. “I just…hear things.”
The professor’s sharp blue eyes took her in again. “Considering the side you claim to be on, I don’t think you heard any such rumor from HoloNews. And I know you didn’t hear anything from my operation.”
He glanced away from the holo pickup for a moment. “How refreshing. You actually seem to be who you claim you are. Megan O’Malley…” Wellman reeled off her address, her age, and several other pieces of information about her.
“How did you—” Megan asked, a little surprised.
Wellman glanced back from the off-pickup display he’d obviously been reading. “
His smile was back, perhaps just a tad grim. “You introduced yourself at the beginning of this call. Perhaps you’re not aware how much seemingly private information can be accessed from public sources.”
“That’s not what happened to Captain Winters,” Megan shot back. She decided to go for broke. “I heard that Tori Rush hired private eyes to go after him, and they weren’t exactly scrupulous about how they did it.”
“And I wish I knew where you heard that rumor,” Wellman replied.
Megan grinned. “I have to protect my sources — isn’t that what all the media types say?”
“And for my part in the game I’d have to answer, ‘No comment,’” Wellman said.
“Off the record?” Megan suggested.
Slowly Wellman shook his head. “There’s no such thing in the media. And I’m sure you know that.”
Megan dropped all pretense of playing reporter. “Professor, I’m trying to help an innocent man who’s about to get his life ruined.”
“There’s a lot of evidence against him, from what I hear.”
“Maybe I’ll sound like a silly schoolgirl when I tell you this,” Megan said. “But I know Captain Winters. Until they find an unimpeachable witness who saw him blow up Stefano Alcista, I’ll never believe the charges against him. Everything they’ve got, as far as I can tell, is circumstantial. I know he didn’t do it.”
“You believe the evidence is fabricated?” Wellman asked.
“Worse. I suspect that the captain is being intentionally framed. I’m not sure why, but he’s being put in a box,” Megan responded angrily. “And Tori Rush seems to be the one hammering down the top.”
“Interesting.” Professor Wellman looked silently at Megan for a long moment.
“Let’s consider a hypothetical situation,” he said abruptly. “What has been the fastest-growing specialty in the news business in the last fifty years?”
“Overseas reporter?” Megan offered.
“Not a bad answer.” The professor nodded. “The global economy has affected the networks, and not necessarily for the better. Foreign audiences have forced broadcasters to give more world news. That’s good. But competition from abroad means more competition for national audiences here and abroad. It started more than thirty years ago, when British broadcasters started sending satellite newscasts to the U.S. Now most of Europe and quite a few Pacific Rim nations are competing for the world news market share. It’s affected the quality of the news.”
“How?” Megan asked.
“After politics, scandal is the easiest sort of news to sell — both inside this country and around the world. Think about the worldwide obsession with the scandals of the British royal family for the past fifty years. Even though they have very little relevancy to most people’s lives, we’re all interested in them. That news plays everywhere, so you can’t escape it.” Wellman gave her a lopsided smile. “Most news appeals very differently to different audiences. Local news, for example, rarely plays anywhere out of its home turf. Business news, too, has a limited international audience — investors who can afford to play in the big leagues. But some news hits just about everybody where they live — a juicy scandal is like that. It’s got all the lowest common denominators of humanity — sex, money, and murder. Which leads back to my original question: What’s the fastest-growing news specialty?”
Megan admitted defeat. “What?”
“Being an expert in front of the cameras. When there’s a war, the networks trot out ex-generals to explain the strategy. If there’s a financial crisis, economists try to put it in perspective. Lawyers become part of the coverage of big trials. When a serial killer is caught, or some terrible crime is committed, psychologists appear like magic all over the HoloNet.”
Professor Wellman shrugged. “Given this influx of specialists into the news — and we’re being strictly hypothetical here, remember — we have to ask a question. How long could it be before someone brought in investigative specialists to help — or replace — investigative reporters? Perhaps we are now looking at the results of that very process.”
7
Leif sat at the breakfast table, frowning. He’d volunteered to find out more about I-on Investigations. But his Net search had turned up very little — just a scattering of news articles about a new CEO and some expanded business.
His father poured himself a cup of coffee. “You look deep in thought today,” Magnus Anderson said.
“And I’ve got very little to show for it,” Leif replied. Then an idea hit him. “Dad, when you went out with Deborah Rockwell, did she ever talk about business?”
“Back to that, are we?” Magnus shrugged. “She tended to keep whatever she was working on under wraps. Why?”
“What do you think she’d say about a newsperson who hired private investigators to dig up information for a story she was working on and then didn’t bother to double-check it before broadcasting news based on it?”
“I imagine Deborah would have to doubt the competence of that newsperson,” Magnus said slowly. “The networks have staff people — researchers, fact checkers, and so forth — to develop the background for the stories the reporters dig up. But, in the end, it’s up to the journalist to get it right — he or she makes the judgment calls in creating stories. Hiring outside assistance — that doesn’t strike me as good judgment for a reporter. Not double- checking such information strikes me as career suicide.”
