37 | CNN
Ben O’Hara shuffled the papers on the news desk in front of him and smiled studiously and professionally at the camera. The red light on top of the camera was not yet on, but it was only a matter of seconds away, and he didn’t want to be caught with a frown or a blank expression when the world tuned in to see his newscast. The papers he was holding were blank. They were a prop, put there by the studio crew to make him look studious and professional.
The floor manager said, “In five, four …” She closed her mouth and held up three fingers, then two, then one.
The light turned red and she pointed at Ben.
“Good evening,” Ben said in his richest, bulletin-opening voice. “And welcome to CNN evening news. In breaking news tonight …” Even as he read the words from the teleprompter, his mind was telling him that there was a problem. There had been no breaking news when they had rehearsed the bulletin just ten minutes ago. If there was now, the news director would have warned him, would have whispered into the tiny earphone that was clipped into his right ear. He had no choice but to continue, though. The words on that screen were the words of CNN, and a billion people were waiting for him to deliver them.
“A dangerous computer virus has been identified and tracked across the globe.”
What the hell …?
“Known as the neuro-virus, this hitherto unknown virus has been described as extremely dangerous by computer security analysts. It spreads through neuro-connections, infecting human brains through neuro-headsets. Once infected, a person may start to exhibit strange behavior. The public are asked to watch out for this symptom in neuro-users. There is no known cure for this virus, and all computer users are asked to avoid using neuro-headsets for the foreseeable future.”
He had a neuro-headset in his office. Why hadn’t he been warned about this?
“Users are also advised to expect a massive denial and cover-up of the virus as neuro-technology corporations look to safeguard their investments. The government, too, is expected to deny the existence of this destructive new virus, which experts warn may also be able to infect and destroy ordinary computer networks.”
He saw movement from the corner of his eye and glanced over at the floor manager, who was making an urgent throat-cutting gesture at him.
“Cut to break!” a voice shouted in his earphone.
“I’m Ben O’Hara. You’re watching CNN, and we’ll be back after this short message.” When the red light went out, he said, not very studiously or professionally, “What the hell is going on?”
“Story’s a fake,” the news director said in his ear. “Somebody hacked into our teleprompter system and planted it. We’ve got everybody from Telecomerica to the Pentagon on the line denying it.”
But the story said they would deny it, didn’t it?
The voice in his ear continued, “We’re back in two or three minutes with a retraction. They’re just drafting it now. It’ll be keyed up on the teleprompter when we go back. The key points are that there is no such virus; it is just a hoax. There is no danger either to neuro-connections or to ordinary computer networks. The Pentagon is sending over a specialist for us to interview and—”
The voice cut off, replaced by a high-pitched electronic whine that stung his ear. Ben tore out the earphone with a cry and left it dangling from his collar.
He looked up at the control booth to see the news director gesticulating furiously. The red light on the camera began to flash, and he tore his attention back to the teleprompter computer. It was filled with gibberish.
Overhead, the studio lights suddenly went out.