?Thank you, Maggie.? I looked around my screen, studying each video window in turn. ?Andrea, the answer to why we?re doing this is a simple one: We don?t want any of you to feel obligated to stay with this site any longer than you already have. I?m sure you?ve all heard about the call the CDC received, reporting our deaths?? Murmurs of agreement. ?It was received before we placed the call to tell them we were still alive. Someone shot out our tires, there was no one else on the road, and yet somebody told the CDC that we?d been killed.?
?Do you have time stamps on that?? asked Alaric, suddenly alert.
?We do,? I confirmed, nodding to Shaun, who began to type. Alaric glanced away from his video transmitter, signaling the arrival of the appropriate files, and quieted. ?Buffy didn?t die in an accident; Buffy was murdered, and her killers thought they?d killed us too. There?s a lot more going on, but that?s the important part right now: Buffy was murdered. Her murderers would have been happy to do the same to the three of us, and that means I can?t put it past them to do the same to any of you. This is your chance to make a graceful exit before I tell you why they want us all dead.? I tapped my PDA again. ?If you check your e-mail, you?ll see an offer of new employment?everyone but you, Magdalene, and you, Mahir. We need to talk to you off-line.? From Magdalene?s nod, it was apparent that she?d been expecting that request, or something similar. Mahir just looked floored. I?d been anticipating both responses. ?Again, if you want to refuse, that?s fine. You will have five minutes to make your decision. If you haven?t decided within that time, I?ll disconnect you from this conference. Should you choose to leave this organization, you will have twelve hours to remove your personal files from our servers. At the end of that time, your access will be revoked and you?ll need to contact a member of the senior staff to obtain anything you haven?t downloaded.?
I paused, giving the others a chance to speak. No one said a word. ?All right. Please review your contracts. If you accept, enter the security code listed under the space for your license number. If you do not accept, it?s been a pleasure working with you. I wish you all the best in your future endeavors.?
More silence followed this announcement as people opened and read their new employment agreements. Nothing had really changed from their original contracts; they got the same number of shares and the same percentages of the various merchandising lines, and they were expected to hold to the same deadlines and levels of journalistic conduct. In another way, everything had changed from their original contracts because when those contracts were signed, nobody was trying to kill us. We weren?t offering hazard pay or guaranteed ratings. We were just offering a lot of danger, and the only real reward was the chance to be a part of telling a truth that was bigger than any of us on our own.
Andrea was again the first to speak, saying, ?I? I?m sorry, Georgia. Shaun. I just? I was here because Buffy asked me to come. I never wanted to deal with this sort of thing. I can?t.?
?It?s all right, Ace,? said Shaun, soothingly. He?s always been good with this sort of thing. That makes one of us. ?Thank you for all your hard work.?
?I?m sorry I couldn?t stay longer,? said Andrea. ?I? good luck, all of you.? Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she looked away from her webcam just before the picture blinked off, leaving a black rectangle on the corner of my screen.
That was the pebble that kicked off the avalanche. Screen borders started blinking white as people agreed to their new contracts; video windows started blacking as people mumbled their apologies and logged off. Some of the answers we got weren?t a surprise. I knew Alaric and Becks would stay. Shaun had given me the same reassurance about Dave. With Buffy gone, there was no one to vouch for the Fictionals, but it seemed likely that we?d lose at least half of them. What I wasn?t expecting was how many of my Newsies would be making their apologies along with them.
Luis put it best. ?It?s not that I don?t think you?re doing the right thing. I know you. You?re doing the only thing you can. But people are going to get hurt, and I can?t afford to be one of them. I have a family. I?m sorry.? And then he was gone, disconnected like half the Fictionals and most of the administrative staff.
We were left with less than half of our original connections when the disconnections stopped, and the only windows not outlined in white were those belonging to Magdalene and Mahir. I looked to the window that held my anxious, former second-in-command and said, ?I?ll call you when this is over,? before tapping out the code to close the connection. ?Magdalene, you can stay, if you understand that you?re not currently employed by this site.?