Here's the latest installment of my current dark scifi project. This is chapter 24. If you're just tuning in, consider starting with chapters 1 and 2. Be advised that this work considers difficult subjects, including suicide. If you're in crisis, please seek help. Help is available here.
Bethel, Connecticut in the winter wasn't Tom's idea of a good time, but it was where his editor Jimmy insisted on meeting. The restaurant was a little Italian joint with great food. Sitting there, thinking about Jo, Tom was waiting for Jimmy to get to the point.
"Jimmy, why did you make me leave my phone in the car?" asked Tom finally. "Come on. What is this?"
"Just colleagues chatting in an out-of-the-way restaurant about nothing in particular," said Jimmy. "Now Tom, I need to know if there's any truth to these rumors about you. Any truth at all."
So that's what this was. "I've known some people in the intelligence community, but I'm not working for the government, Jimmy," said Tom.
"Anyone ever approach you?" asked Jimmy. "Ask you to do something?"
"No, seriously, what's got you so spooked? asked Tom.
"This conversation never happened," said Jimmy. "But they approached me. Not about any of your stories. About the Gazette's coverage of the Eastern War. Said I should do my part by printing their perspective."
"What did you do?" asked Tom.
"What else?" said Jimmy. "I had Helen include their perspective in relevant stories, attributed to anonymous government sources."
"Jesus, Jimmy," said Tom.
"I know, I know," said Jimmy. "We don't do propaganda. Technically, the attribution satisfies our ethics, But it looks bad. And it gets worse."
"Worse, how?" asked Tom.
"Helen Knowles is publishing a piece about Pentagon influence over domestic media," said Jimmy. "She threatened to go to Substack if I kill the story. And the truth is I don't want to kill it. But it does say that we were forcing her to print government talking points. I'm worried about our exposure. We're already doing blockchain publishing and crypto payrolls, but this is the Pentagon we're talking about."
"Eh," said Tom. "People who leak incriminating documents to the Intercept sometimes end up in prison. And their readers haven't vanished. Admitting that we caved to government pressure in this one situation probably wouldn't hurt the brand. Did you break any laws?"
"Probably," said Jimmy. "I'm more worried about direct retaliation. DNS is a vulnerability I don't know how to harden. DNS and increased link censorship. I was kind of hoping..."
"What?" said Tom, reading his boss. "You actually thought I was CIA!" he laughed. "You were hoping I could pull some strings!"
"If anyone has strings to pull in a situation like this, it's you," said Jimmy, sighing.
"You know what I think?" asked Tom. "When Helen's piece comes out, it'll bring the Gazette into a degree of transparency bordering on the ideal. And, now that I'm thinking about it, I do have a string I can pull."
"I knew it," said Jimmy. "You need money or something?"
"Just an advance copy of Helen's piece," said Tom.
"You're not mad about me caving to them in the first place?" asked Jimmy.
"Everybody caves to Uncle Sam," said Tom. "But you're going public about it, unlike all the media outlets that keep secretly pushing the government agenda."
"I guess that makes me kind of a folk hero," said Jimmy, smiling broadly.
"Basically," said Tom, relieved to see Jimmy relaxing.
"Funny," said Tom. "With everything going on, it's interesting that the narrative they're most tightly controlling is the War narrative."
"I get the sense that everything outside the War is just window dressing to these people," said Jimmy.
Later, in his hotel room, Tom emailed Hunter Domino about the situation and Helen's article, focusing on how it spoke to the Hope Gazette's commitment to media transparency. Having pulled his only string, Tom left Jo a message and went to sleep. The next day was mostly driving, which Tom enjoyed in silence, giving him space to think.
His article on the mental health crisis was complete, but something about it was bugging him. Something felt off in the whole way it framed mental illness. He'd been careful to point out that most mental illnesses were just constellations of symptoms caused by unknown influences. And to include alternative interpretations of what mental illness actually is, to contrast industrial medicine's inadequate framework. But something still felt off. On the road, he figured out what it was.
It was the statistics. Almost sixty percent of young people were on psych meds. That implied that it was more normal to be mentally ill than mentally healthy. This called into question the whole prevailing standard of mental health. Tom resolved to add a paragraph about that.
Arriving home, Tom found Jo away. He ordered a pizza and settled in for a few hours of Star Trek. Forty minutes later, he was dozing off when he heard a sharp knock at the door. Since it was a secure building, Tom figured it must be maintenance or something. But when he opened the door, he found two suits.
"Mr Wilkins?" one said. "Special Agents Conway and Price with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. May we have a moment of your time?"
"But Janeway's investigating a strange signal coming from the nebula," said Tom.
"We're here to talk about Hunter Domino," said Conway. "Have you had any recent contact with him?"
"I emailed him last night," said Tom. "Why? What's this about?"
"We're concerned that elements within his organization may be planning terrorism," said Price. "This is just a routine interview of his associates to see if our concerns can be substantiated."
"Well, I'm sure you know I've featured him on my program several times," said Tom. "We exchange the occasional email but we rarely talk. Unless he has something big to announce, then he comes to me and we do it on air."
"That's good," said Conway. "The next time he contacts you to make news, give us a heads up. Now, how did you first meet Domino?"
Tom told the story and answered all of their questions. Jo returned fifteen minutes after they left. "What's going on?" she asked, sensing something amiss.
"My boss thinks I'm a spy and the Gazette is about to publish a story that might rock some boats," said Tom. "Oh, and the FBI just left after interviewing me about Hunter Domino. How are you doing?"
(Feature image from Pixabay.)
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