Netcast: Zero by Ryk Brown Page A

flattering angle that her videographer insisted made her look both sexy and intelligent. “Is Twister a major threat, or is it just another digital nuisance like so many others in the past? Many have argued that we have become too dependent on technology, and that such dependencies make us vulnerable. Yet, because of our technology, we have advanced to the point that starvation, disease, and even war itself, are all distant memories of days long past. Perhaps annoyances like the Twister virus are just the price we pay for a better life through technology. The good men and women here at the Dantmore Institute are trying to reduce that cost… for all of us.” She paused for a moment, changing the angle of her head as Barry had instructed in the past before closing out an interview. “I’m Hanna Bohl, at the Dantmore Institute for Digital Security.”
    Hanna froze in her position as she waited for the red light on the imaging orb hovering next to her to go dark.
    “We’re out,” Barry announced from the corner of the room. He pressed a button on the control pad hanging from him at waist-level, causing all six imaging orbs to return to the docking station on the floor next to him.
    Arielle leaned closer to Barry as the last orb landed in its cradle. “Replace that dazed, disinterested expression she had on her face with something more perky. You know where I mean, just before the professor said the same type of virus had been around for centuries.”
    “No problem,” Barry replied as he bent down to close the lid over the imaging orbs. “I’ll head back to the hotel and start the preliminary edits.”
    Ari nodded in agreement.
    Hanna looked at Professor Dantmore as she stood, feeling a bit embarrassed.
    “It’s quite all right, Miss Bohl,” the professor said as he also stood. “Most people find what we do quite boring. In fact, we’re now the last group to use humans in our analytical work. Everyone else uses AIs.”
    “Why don’t you use them?” Hanna wondered.
    “There’s just something wrong with using artificial intelligence algorithms to study other algorithms.”
    “But aren’t the AIs faster, and more accurate?”
    “Yes, but they still lack the instincts that humans possess. Even after three hundred years of using artificial intelligence, the closest we have ever come to achieving the instinctual nature of the human mind, in digital form, are the human consciousness uploads.”
    “Now, that would have been more interesting to talk about,” Hanna insisted, as she reached out and shook the professor’s hand. “Unfortunately, that wasn’t my assignment.”
    “It was a pleasure, Miss Bohl,” the professor said.
    Hanna smiled and turned away as the professor left the room, then walked over to her producer. “For the record, I was paying attention. I was just considering my next question.”
    “Uh-huh,” Arielle replied.
    Barry looked at the technician standing to the side of the room, ignoring the exchange between Hanna and Arielle. “You guys have point to point?”
    “Of course,” the technician replied.
    “Mind if I use it?” Barry asked.
    “The terminal is in the next room,” the technician said. “Follow me.”
    Barry turned to Arielle, who had a curious expression on her face. “If I upload the raw file to the client from here, it’ll save us the cost of the point to point link later.”
    “What about the edits?” Arielle asked.
    “I can send them the edits as a macro after we finish the final cut. It’s a tiny file that we can send through the public net.”
    “Sounds good,” Arielle agreed. She looked back at Hanna. “Next time, you might want to do your pre-interview research before you leave the hotel.”
    “Right,” Hanna replied.
    Arielle shook her head, knowing full well that Hanna would never do so. “At least you’re using the angles that Barry told you about.”
    “Hey, I listen.”
    “Since when?” Arielle wondered with a laugh. “I’ve known you