Netcast: Zero by Ryk Brown Page B

for ten years now. If there’s one thing you’re not good at, Hanna, it’s listening to the advice of others.”
    Hanna grabbed her bag from the chair next to the exit. “That was last century, Ari. It’s the twenty-sixth century now. You’re looking at the new, improved Hanna Bohl.”
    “I see,” Arielle replied, picking up her own bag. “And is the new, improved Hanna Bohl finally going to land us a cushy full-time gig with one of the major news-nets?”
    “Of course,” Hanna insisted, as they headed out the door and down the corridor, “but not if you keep lining up these snooze-fests.”
    “Hey, they pay the bills. This one even put a few dollars into our savings.”
    They turned the corner and headed across the lobby toward the main entrance.
    “I don’t even know why you’re putting money into that account,” Hanna argued. “We won’t even need it once we land that cushy gig.”
    “It never hurts to have a backup plan,” Arielle insisted. “Besides, that savings account kept us from being on the streets when we got stuck in Philly for three weeks last year… or did you already forget about that little fiasco?”
    “How could I, with you always reminding me,” Hanna retorted as they exited the building.
    Hanna paused a moment, taking in the streets of the city. Electric vehicles of all shapes and sizes, most of them automated, packed the streets with a never ending ebb and flow of traffic. Buildings towered in the afternoon sun, casting long easterly shadows. Elevated walkways stretched between the buildings and around every intersection at the second, fifth, and tenth levels. Monorail trains cruised overhead, as they shuttled passengers from the elevated platforms at the second levels. And finally, above it all, countless shuttles flitted about as if on invisible pathways in the sky as they ferried their privileged passengers from building top to building top. Hanna loved the feeling of being in a big city. To her, it meant endless possibilities.
    “Are we going to have time to visit our parents?” Hanna asked, turning her attention back to Arielle.
    “Not this time, I’m afraid. We have to be in Boston day after tomorrow.”
    “Then we have plenty of time,” Hanna said.
    “Not if we’re going to take the train.”
    Hanna’s head fell back slightly as she moaned in discontent. “Twenty-four hours on a train, again? For once, can’t we just take a shuttle?”
    “We can’t afford it, Hanna.”
    “Then can we at least take the tube?”
    “We can’t afford that, either.”
    “What’s the point of putting money into savings, then?”
    “To protect us the next time you pull another stunt like the one in Philly. We can’t live on what the pop-nets pay, Hanna. You know that.”
    “We could if we weren’t leasing all that extra FI gear,” Hanna argued as she started down the street.
    “You know damn well that all the major news-nets want full immersion now,” Arielle reminded her as they headed up the stairs to the monorail platform, “and that equipment is expensive to lease.”
    “We could make just as much money doing the tabloid stuff using simple hi-def minis. We could pick up a three-pack for half of what we pay Barry per week.”
    “We agreed, Hanna,” Arielle argued. “We’re real journalists, not pop-goons. I’d rather be working as a junior production assistant in some snippet clearing house than do the tabloid stuff.”
    “There are cross-overs, you know,” Hanna insisted as the next monorail train came to a stop and its doors opened. “Lara Knox, Blaze Hunter, Michael Benat…”
    “All pretty faces, and no substance.”
    “Pretty faces who get all the best stories,” Hanna argued, “and ride around in private shuttles, I might add, instead of taking overnight trains between coasts.”
    “The deal is until we hit thirty,” Arielle reminded Hanna, “and we’re not there yet.”
    Hanna looked at Arielle as they stepped onto the monorail train and