Yellow

By Saylos

"So what's the lead in?" Andy Garden said with that smug Harvard expression of his. Elaine Handpick fiddled with her pen as she opened the glossy folder, flipped a few pages and then spoke.

"We lead in with the anthrax milk story, that's the promo," She said sliding her glasses off and looking around the table at the rest seated there.

"That'll get them tuned in, but how do we keep them?" Daniel Baxley said with a sturdy mouth. He always spoke with a sturdy mouth as though afraid some lip readers might be looking in.

The double doors to the meeting room opened up, filling the blue haze with bright yellow light. Everyone looked up from what they were doing and an uneasy silence fell over the group. He walked into the room like an uneasy cloud. His long legs carried a slender yet imposing frame across the room with footfalls that seemed to chime like a funeral bell. He walked with such an assured and fluid manner that his twelve thousand dollar suit didn't even crease as he glided across the room and positioned himself at the head of the table. He peered across at the group, his face as expressionless as a doll's and almost as boyish. His name was spoken in hushed whispers throughout the offices and even then with the type of dread afforded the devil himself. His name was Roderick Archer, owner of World News Service and master of the universe.

"How we keep them," Mr. Archer said "Is by running the anthrax teaser but sit on the story until the last segment."

Everyone sounded off a "hello Mr. Archer" until he raised his hand to silence them. Elaine Handpick was less concerned that Archer was there and more concerned about the stranger he'd entered with. The stranger was a tall man, dressed almost like an undertaker save for the single hint of colour granted by the presence of a red tie. He stood behind Archer and almost in the shadows, seeming to blend into them.

"The anthrax milk story has been promoted as the lead in, we can't just bump it to the last segment like that," Andy Garden said with a great deal less Harvard in his voice than before.

"Anthrax milk is bulls**t," Archer said "I had a little in my cornflakes this morning." There was a titter of polite laughter. Elaine felt more uncomfortable than before. Being the only female executive of the world's largest cable and INTERNET news service was enough to make her wake up in a cold sweat most nights. Couple that with the fear of being the only ex female employee of the world's largest cable and INTERNET news service and she had the makings of an early heart attack. Like everyone else present, she was stunned that Archer had decided to avail himself on what was to be nothing more than a typical pre-production staff meeting. In nine years of employment at WNS, she'd only ever seen him in the orientation video.

"Let's cut through the bulls**t, gentlemen, and lady," Elaine tried not to look perturbed. She already felt isolated from the group as it was. "The gentleman lurking behind me like a vulture is a representative of one of our sponsors, not to mention a close personal friend. Now you all know I have a very busy schedule and my being here today was not a part of it, so with that in mind let's try to make this as quick and painless as possible so I can get on with my life.

"Approximately three hours ago, the Pentagon released a report that the former Soviet Republic of Kazakstan had three nuclear warheads prepped and ready to launch by a militant Islamic group called 'The Order'. Intelligence sources report that these missiles were directed at three primary targets, one of them within the United States. Now my question is, why is this story not listed anywhere in this glossy pile of s**t you call a pre-production report?"

Andy Garden glanced at Daniel Baxley who did his best impression of a shrug as he passed a look to Carter Morton who only sat there more gray than usual, but passed his look to Elaine who found herself with nowhere to turn but to Jakobi Trask, who did not pass on or even return the look, merely sat leaned back in his chair looking too calm for the situation.

"Well, sir," Elaine said, clearing her throat and becoming all too aware of how hot it was. "We pulled the story because, well, we got some information . . . What I mean is-"

"What she means, Roddy," Jakobi said "Is that it's not true, never was. The alleged intelligence came from a separatist group wanting to overturn the democratically elected government of Kazakstan. There are no Islamic militants and there aren't any nukes. Sorry boss."

To say the board was shocked would be like saying the Ocean is a little watery. Nobody had ever spoken to Roderick Archer like that before, at least not in Carter Morton's lifetime, which was long. All eyes were now focused on Jakobi Trask, the 'troublemaker', as he was called around the offices. He was different. Elaine noticed it too. There was just something about him that separated him from the rest of the crowd. He even walked differently, never in a hurry, but walked around the offices like he was strolling along the beach. She found herself drawn to him, but at the same time frightened by his free spirit.

"Mr. Trask," Archer said, arms folding across his wide chest. "I would have thought your tenure here would have curbed your rebellious streak by now. I see I've underestimated you. Tell you what, Jake, if you can prove any of what you just said, you can shout it from the rooftops come tomorrow. But mark my words, nobody will hear you and it won't get aired on this network, any network "

"But sir," Elaine said. "Don't we have a responsibility? If it's not true . . . "

"It was true as of the printing of these reports, so that makes it fact," Archer said. "Is there something else you care to add to this discussion, Elaine?"

"Don't we have an obligation?" She stammered.

"Your obligation is to report the news as best you can. Your only obligation is to this network, is that clear enough for you?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Andy Garden said to Elaine. "I mean everyone will find out eventually, why does it matter that they find out now? I mean nuclear war makes a great lead in. Besides, it's not like we're covering anything up."

"Exactly, Andy," Daniel Baxley nodded. "It's not like there won't be a Kazakstan tomorrow." He looked at Archer for a nod, but Archer's face was expressionless. He just stared back coldly at Daniel from behind those lightly tinted glasses of his.

"Nothing is set in stone," Archer said. Ghastly silence filled the room. Daniel dropped his pen, but could not move to claim it.

"Jesus, Mr. Archer! What you're saying is- I mean, what you're suggesting is-" Andy could not even get it out. He couldn't even articulate what he was thinking or feeling.

"What I'm suggesting is that you all do your jobs and look out for the welfare of this network and its sponsors. We run a segment on Kazakstan and the nuclear threat in the eleven o'clock segment and that's final."

"Yeah, damn the torpedoes, Roddy. Unleash the dogs of war, right?"

"Is there anything else, Jakobi?"

"This is insane!"

Archer slid back his chair and started to rise. Elaine felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Tonight's sleep would not come easy. A few pills and a bit of alcohol would be the only way.

"Since there's nothing else," Archer said. "I'll call this a day. You're all doing excellent work, don't think that's not appreciated."

"Sit down, Roddy!" Jakobi shouted. His face was frighteningly calm, in contrast to his voice.

"Something you want to say Jake? Get it off your chest. Say it now and avoid yourself the embarrassment of saying it later."

"What the hell happened to you, Roddy? You used to stand for something, remember that? You used to stand for the truth, no matter what the cost, don't you even remember that? There are more than a billion people that trust you and you're going to sell each and every one of them out for quick buck? What happened to you? Just tell me what happened to you that turned you into this?"

"Don't you feed me that 'trust, justice and the American way' spiel, Jake. You think those one and a half billion viewers give a damn about any of that? Truth? Truth is just a lie that everybody believes, it's an illusion, a product and we are in the business of selling a product. Want to know what changed? Nothing changed, Jake. People stopped watching the truth. People stopped caring about the truth. All anybody wants anymore is a nice house, a load of money and a fancy car. They want sex, blood and death, Jake. Nobody wants the truth. They want to be entertained by flashy graphics and chesty talking heads. The truth won't fit on a tee-shirt, Jake, so nobody's interested."

"One and a half million dead people won't fit on a tee-shirt either, Roddy. You know why people stopped caring about the news? Because we stopped caring about the people. We reduce everything to a sound byte so we can make more room for commercials and somewhere between the ads for detergent and the minute and a half wasted on the panda's not screwing again this year, a little more of our credibility is thrown out the window. How much did you sell our credibility to this thug for, Roddy? How much is a good name worth?"

"I'm not debating this with you, Jake. My word is granite here."

The man in the red tie leaned into Archer's ear and whispered. Archer closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then spoke again.

"I'm afraid you're terminated, Jake, effective immediately."

Jakobi let out a rattled chuckle. "So," he said. "This guy's the one in charge now, is that it? He calls the shots? What's this worth to him? Did some politician drop the ball here, Roddy? Is that it? Somebody jump the gun and push that button a little too soon? How long would it take for a nuclear payload to reach Kazakstan, Roddy? By the time the people hear about the strike, they'll believe it was justified, right?"

"That is effective immediately, Jake. We have no place for your paranoid little fantasies here."

"Why not, Roddy? Isn't this already a place of fantasy?" Jakobi walked across the room, past Archer, to the man in the red tie. "Who the hell are you? What company are you with? Who the hell do you think you are that you can come in here and dictate truth? That you can come in here and ask us all to be co-conspirators in the murder of more than a million people? What gives you the right?" He grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket, but the man did not answer.

"I want an answer, god dammit! You think you can just buy everything? You buy the politicians, you buy the news, you buy the people. Where does it end? Or maybe this is how it ends. Maybe it ends when you people become so fat from feeding off of us that you destroy everything. You've sold dignity, you've sold truth, you've even sold freedom. Tell me now, what gives you the right?"

The man in the red tie pried Jakobi's fingers from his lapels, straightened his suit, gave him a silent, passing glance, and then touched Archer on the shoulder. Archer nodded as he straightened his own suit.

"That will be all, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for your attention." With that, the two of them walked silently from the room, the doors closing behind them as they left. Jakobi was still standing at the head of the table, where the man in the red tie once stood. Carter, Andy and Daniel pretended not to notice as they gathered their reports together and placed them in almost identical briefcases with an almost militaristic rhythm. Elaine, on the other hand, watched him for several minutes. His free-spirited demeanor was gone and now he was hunched over, almost as though a great weight had been placed on his shoulders.

"Just one question," Jakobi seemed to be speaking to the wall. "Journalism 101. Who here knows what the phrase 'Yellow Journalism' means?"

"Not familiar with that term," Andy said, clicking his briefcase closed.

"Me either," Daniel muttered, taking his briefcase by the handle.

"Can't recall," Carter said, taking his briefcase off the table.

"It doesn't matter," Jakobi said. "It means to distort the truth either through bias or deception. I don't suppose that means anything anymore. Everything is yellow these days. The only truth you're likely to find are just lies everybody believes."

Jakobi paused, as if to say something else, then turned around and walked silently from the boardroom. One at a time, the other men left behind him, muttering to each other about the state of their investments or some other bit of idle chatter. Elaine lingered for a while longer, so many thoughts racing through her mind.

She left the boardroom and walked down the narrow hallway. She paused at a glass partition and watched the television screen on the other side displaying images of troop deployments in some location she could not identify if she'd wanted to. By tomorrow, there would be images of a greater horror. By tomorrow, not all the pills and booze in the world would help her sleep. The truth is just a lie everybody believes; She repeated this over and over again to herself. Perhaps, in time, she might believe it. Perhaps.