Waylee’s depressive episode was a lot worse than usual. There weren’t any medicines for cyclothymia, but Pel convinced her to get a bupropion prescription, which lifted her from abyssal black to merely blue.
A couple of weeks later, she met with Willard Ramsey, the Independent News Center director. Pel’s boss. A few blocks from the Herald, the INC was the region’s biggest non-profit for investigative journalism. Focused on ‘the people’s interests,’ they accepted no advertising or government funding. No bonds to the corporate world. And they weren’t afraid of controversy. In fact, they sought it.
Ramsey’s office in the INC’s three-story red brick building had no plaques on the wall. Waylee sat in a swivel chair while the grey-bearded director read her story on a stretch screen.
Halfway through, he turned and grinned. A good sign.
“There’s a lot of links here,” he said. “Mind if I check them later?”
“Yeah, all the supporting documents are on the data stick. I added videos last week, ambush interviews of Congressmen and FCC commissioners.”
Her subjects didn’t say much, but they didn’t deny her accusations either. Best by far, one of the commissioners repented, saying in hindsight they shouldn’t have allowed MediaCorp to control both data delivery and content.
Maybe they could be pressured to reverse it.
Ramsey finished the story. “And this is for us?”
“You’ll have to rewrite it. The Herald owns my draft, even if they won’t print it.”
“We don’t even have a print edition. We’re strictly video.”
She shrugged. “Who reads print anyway these days? Think of this as a starting point. Do your own follow-up. Interview everyone on my list, if you can.”
“You want your name on it?”
“No, not a good idea. I just want someone to stand up to MediaCorp. Try to fix things.”
He nodded and leaned back in his chair. “Still, won’t your paper know we got this from you? Won’t you get in trouble?”
“Fuck ‘em.”
Ramsey shook her hand and she headed for the door. Halfway there, she turned back. Was she dooming the last voice of independent media?
Ramsey met her eyes. “Yes?”
“Be careful. Don’t underestimate them like I did.”