Chapter 1
The newsroom, even on a slow news day is full of inquisitive minds looking for story possibilities everywhere. Today's fodder in the historic Chelsea Market building is about a newly discovered YouTube video showing what appears to be amateur footage of soldiers carrying out some kind of mission. Cassandra knows as soon as she walks into the newsroom that something is unfolding. Many of her co-workers are gathered around a computer at the other end of the newsroom. This gives her time to listen to the group first. She slowly approaches them, trying to decide if she even wants to indulge them by asking. She had checked the usual sites this morning on her cab ride in to see what was trending and nothing seemed too exciting to her. Those gathered around are pointing out things such as the soldiers not carrying any weapons but they all have what looks like blood on them. None appear to be in pain or injured at all. There are comments that it might be a film school project or maybe a possible new movie marketing teaser.
Cassandra's production assistant Kevin is walking by after getting his ritualistic cinnamon coffee and cream cheese Danish and stops to see what the commotion is about. “Those are the mutant soldiers!” Kevin says with his brand of immature conviction. Kevin is much younger and a bit naive, but what he lacks in maturity he makes up for in enthusiasm. That is why Cassandra most often chooses him to work with. A usual side effect of being in this game too long is to become cynical, which she showed up on the scene with enough of that already, but Kevin keeps the wonder alive inside her. Reminds her she may not have ALL the answers just yet. No doubt, she would not be accepting the Peabody Award tonight without him keeping her focus gritty and curious. Keeping this in mind, she also must keep him in touch with reality. Kevin is a big conspiracy nut and doesn't always know when and where the proper outlets are for that hobby. She must often remind him of the direction their stories must take now. By not indulging him about government conspiracies, she also hopes he never gets a hint of her Resistance involvement. Of course Cassandra believes something is wrong and believes that probably at least a few of the conspiracies are true, but she cannot let Kevin know that about her.
Cassandra, feeling a little feisty and patient this morning, decides to plop herself into the group. “Oh you're already familiar with this Kevin, I'm shocked?” pipes in Cassandra, sounding a bit condescending but Kevin is used to it.
“That's why I love you Cassie; always the cynic.” smiles Kevin. “I've seen this shit before. It's all over the Internet. You guys should really get off the MSNBC and Washington Post websites every once in a while. There is REAL news happening and this is it!” Kevin goes on to elaborate about how there are several eyewitness accounts online of what appears to be a group of American special ops soldiers. They have been spotted all over the world, including doing missions on American soil. They are never seen carrying weapons, and they demonstrate above normal strength and speed.
“And what does the Internet say these mutant soldiers are?” quizzes Cassandra.
“Well”, Kevin knows what he is about to say will not be well received by her but decides to say it anyway, “there are a few theories: androids, genetically mutated humans, aliens. No one has ever come face-to-face with one so it's all speculation right now but something does not seem right about them.”
“Wearing your conspiracy hat early this morning huh? This looks more like a really good marketing stunt for a movie or video game. It's also much more likely Kevin.”
During the exchange, another production assistant interrupts "Hey Cassie, didn't you graduate from Syracuse?", as she points to an overhead television screen.
"Yes.” She turns to the TV, “and that is Dr. Roberts." She looks surprised to see him and turns up the volume to listen to the interview. The professor is talking about his experiences in South America. There he witnessed a group of what looked like American soldiers displaying extreme strength and speed and who carried no weapons. He repeated Kevin almost exactly. Cassandra turns to Kevin just in time to see a huge satisfying smile cross his face.
"I'll bet you didn't know HE was a conspiracy nut too," says another coworker.
"I assure you, he is a brilliant man with enough common sense to put all of us to shame!" Cassandra replies. Although she is thinking to herself why would such a respected professor go on live television and speak of this. Could there be something to it? Returning to her usual cynicism, at least on the outside, she returns with, “I don't have time for this nonsense right now; I have an awards ceremony to prepare for and an appointment with my stylist.”
“Well it's nice to hear that one of you hasn't jumped aboard the crazy train just yet.” George appears on the catwalk.
“Thank you George” says Cassandra sounding a little smug. There are few people that Cassandra looks up to professionally, but George is at the top of that list. Even though she has made her name in the industry, she still looks to him for guidance and encouragement. However, there have also been times when George had to lean on Cassandra. In the fall of 2010, he lost his wife of 23 years to cancer. After that he spiraled into an abyss. Cassandra scraped him off of many a bar's floor and got him home safe. It broke her heart to see him so out of control, but that is also when he became human for her. That is when she started to give herself permission to be human and when her writing became more personal.
Cassandra grew up in a household of very career minded individuals. Her mother is a celebrated neurosurgeon. Her father owns and runs a successful real estate development firm. Her older brother played in the minor leagues when Cassie was in junior high and signed with the Atlanta Brave's just as she was accepted into Syracuse. She had big expectations to live up too and would not let them down. She's still not sure why she gives a shit though. Her parents were always so busy with their careers to ever be there for her. Maybe she doesn't want to be on their radar or be compared to her successful brother? For this reason, she kept her nose to the grindstone and threw herself into her dream of being a New York City journalist.
“You're welcome, Cassandra. I can't wait to see you walk across that stage tonight. It will be one of the proudest moments of my life.” George says warmly and kisses her on the cheek.
Cassandra leaves the newsroom amid the swarming debates about the mutant soldiers, with Kevin being the ringleader. She does want to look into this but not today. Today she must prepare herself, because tonight she must be ready to schmooze. Cassandra is very grateful and humbled by the award and it has inspired her to keep her work at that level always. However to her, awards ceremonies always seem like nothing more than an ego stroke for the winners, which she does not need nor want. She must be ready to play the game and wear the smile tonight, so she is off to be pampered.
Her stylist set her up an appointment for hair, nails, and makeup. She knows Cassandra all too well, so she also bought her a dress for tonight. If left to her own devices, she would be wearing some dress from her closet that she’s already worn to a wedding, funeral, or conference of some kind. The dress was sent over to the salon for Cassandra. It was dark royal blue satin with an open back and long slit in the side showing most of her right thigh. A little more daring than she would pick out, but it was strikingly tasteful. The perfect color to make her blue eyes sparkle. Her chestnut brown hair was piled loosely on her head with delicate tresses falling around her face. Although it looked like she just threw her hair up, it took over an hour to accomplish! Knowing that she would be on her feet most of the evening, her stylist was thoughtful and also sent over shoes that were actually comfortable. As superficial as having a stylist sounded to Cassandra, she was glad she had one. It keeps her from obsessing over these insignificant details like dresses and shoes.
The Peabody Awards ceremony is understated as usual but beautiful, and includes all her friends and coworkers. While these relationships mean very much to her, she can't help feeling there is someone missing from her life: someone to escor
t her from the limo to the ceremony, someone to lead her into the room with his hand on the small of her back, someone to kiss her gently when her name is called. Her parents are rarely available to attend these types of things. She was lucky they attended her college graduation! She only has relationships of convenience to share this moment in her life with. “Friends” who may only be there because of her prestige as a well-respected journalist and the connections that come with it. She used to believe a respected career was all that mattered, but as she gets older she longs for real connections. This award is the culmination of her hard work and a dream accomplished. More and more though, she wonders how things could have been different if she had allowed herself to be a romantic, to jump in with both cold feet. Cassandra looks around the room. Is there a real connection with any of them? This all excludes George of course, and maybe Kevin.
During the other acceptance speeches Cassandra is still unsure of which speech she will be giving. Which one she gives depends on how many drinks she can get downed before her name is called. Even as she was walking across the stage, she wasn't sure until her mouth opened:
“This award is a culmination of a lifelong dedication to truth. I've always felt the real problems of our world cannot be solved unless the truth is known. Unfortunately I was born in the wrong time period. We now live in a culture that does not value truth and does not seek it out. It is suppressed, even feared. I am thankful that Al-Jazeera TV was willing to air my story and heartbroken my own country was not. The truth behind GMO foods and the over-engineered pesticides are a real danger to all of us, worldwide. Most countries are finding this out and taking the necessary steps to protect their citizens’ food supply. We should all be wondering why the American government is ignoring the research findings and allowing it to continue. We should also be wondering why this is one of the many stories the Department of Responsible Media won't let us cover. I sincerely fear for every one of us.”
. . . and she slowly walked off stage. The applause was slow at first. The entire media population is very cautious in showing enthusiasm towards alternative views right now. However, a few well-liquored attendees finally stand up and applaud enthusiastically and the crowd joins in. She receives a standing ovation. When she returns to her seat next to George, he gives her a look that she knows means she will be in his office in the morning.
The station has an after party in the newsroom after the awards luncheon. Cassandra is her usual charming self. She can work a room like no other, and appears to float on air as she moves from empty conversation to empty conversation. This requires a little liquid courage. Even after all these years of hobnobbing with society's elite, her drink of choice has always been the tequila sunrise. It's her sneaky little way of rejecting society’s expectations. She looks around and everyone else is holding either a martini or wine glass. She loves New York City, but the constant concern for image is exhausting. I wonder what kind of looks I would get if I were walking around with a Bud Light, Cassandra thinks to herself, and smiles.
She is alone at the bar now, trying to remain festive. Kevin calls her over to a group. "You know Professor Roberts?" asks one of the men.
"Yes, he was my sociology professor at Syracuse, why?" asks Cassandra, knowing full well what the conversation is about but she chooses to play ignorant. Kevin tells her they all watched the interview earlier and are now questioning Dr. Roberts' motives for telling such a sensational story.
"You called me over for this?!" raising her voice. After a few drinks, her patience is thin. Kevin is surprised by her reaction. She quickly walks away, says good-bye to George and leaves. The ride home has the party atmosphere fading, and the couple of drinks are taking their toll. Her familiar feelings of longing are harder to keep at bay now.