Virtually True by Adam L. Penenberg Read Free Book Online Page B

close-up views of the damage.
    Rush’s murmurings. “Wish I was there. Reiner’s one lucky bitch.”
    True’s fascinated by nature’s wrath, knows he’ll face his sadness later, in private. For now it’s reporter-mode. He switches off most of the grid sequences and enlarges a shot of the downtown business district, which is relatively untouched, built as it is on solid rock. People stream into the area, awaiting guidance, searching for refuge from the inevitable aftershocks. True pulls up the next option: bed towns, the suburban towns that serve as home to salarymen and their families, a two-, three-hour commute from their jobs on packed trains and buses, have been eradicated as well.
    Reiner ends her report by focusing beyond the crumbling embers of what was one of the great cities, beyond the skyline to the sun, the color of the inside of a roasted sweet potato, taunting the city by dripping below the horizon. The Rising Sun is setting.
    A request for more options: Repeat telecast? More news from around the globe? Local news? Sports? Weather? True buttons it closed and the earthquake is tucked from sight.
    Rush speaks first. “I hope they call me to Tokyo. That could really help me upgrade my career. Great anchors get their breaks covering wars and disasters.”
    True focuses on the here and now. “There’s a lot we can do here.”
    “Like what?”
    “Many J-corps have set up shop here, so there are bound to be refugees. We can interview them, especially given the context.”
    “What context?”
    “The bad blood that exists between the governments of Luzonia and Japan, since Japan is supporting some of the ethnic groups fighting for independence.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “These refugees will be bringing stories of their escape. Victim profiles make for interesting viewing and solid ratings.”
    “I’m glad you’re getting the idea how we do things at the new WWTV.”
    “And you know what else? After a major ecological disaster, what happens next?”
    “What?”
    “Rebuilding.”
    “So?”
    “There will be tremendous incentive to begin construction in Tokyo, which means great demand for labor. With imported workers come prostitution and a thriving black market.”
    “How do you know all this?”
    “Check your history. And where do you think many of these prostitutes will come from?”
    Rush furrows. “Luzonia?”
    “Luzonia.”
    “Ailey, you’re showing me something. Maybe you haven’t used up all your processors, after all. What’s the plan?”
    “We find out where the refugees are and interview them. Human interest stuff, too. Tap into the black market here and see how they plan to play in Tokyo.”
    “Do it. Lots of pain and suffering. Find an outbreak of cholera or plague, too, if you can. You know, the usual ratings grabbers.” Rush slides through the door. “Ratings call.”

CHAPTER 5
     
    Outside a makeshift refugee camp at the Nerula’s port. Black marketeers have vined wood and plastic together for makeshift electric currency conversion booths. To express its displeasure over Japan’s support of autonomous ethnic regions, Luzonia’s Parliament banned yen. Currency pirates extort the nouveau-refugees, proffering ridiculous rates for the conversion of yen into Luzonian currency into American electric dollars, tacking on a 50 percent surcharge; or they trade wads of Luzonian toilet paper money for Japanese heirlooms, electronics, jewelry, liquor. And with each stolen minute, the rates change; Luzonia suffers such severe hyperinflation that traders have to weigh the money. This day, 800 grams of Luzonian 100-peseta paper notes fetches one electric dollar. In an hour or two, a greenback could bring as much as a kilogram.
    True lolls to a section squeezed by scriggly wire. Through fence coils he sees luggage—suitcases, plastic bags, cloth coats tied up to hold the salvageable—and next to that are heaps of foreign aid: sacks of Indonesian dried noodles; Polish canned hams;