Excited murmurs filled the warm, humid, mid-monsoon air as Casia Washi strode into the elaborately decorated grounds of the IAW headquarters, on the auspicious occasion of Emancipation Day. Lord Ashwin Kwan of Zaini walked rather timidly behind her, taking in the sights and sounds of the celebratory premises with wide eyes and parted lips, as if he had never seen anything like it before. But then, Casia had come to realise in the few weeks she had known him that that was pretty much his reaction to life in general.
Ashwin’s appearance seemed to add fuel to the gossipy fire and the muted chattering took on a life of its own. Heads turned as they passed, and a few of the dignitaries even held hand-fans or napkins in front of their faces in a futile attempt at discretion. Casia rolled her eyes even as her hand reached back to grab Ashwin by the arm, dragging the surprised young man off to a shady alcove created by a large Gulmohar tree growing next to the boundary wall. Her head throbbed from a combination of excessive exposure to stupidity and a slight lack of restraint in matters alcoholic during the office party last night.
There was a reason Casia did not like these sorts of gatherings. She fumed internally, looking around rather menacingly at the politicos and dignitaries milling about the premises, whispering behind their silly fans. And to think people accused the media of rumour mongering.
Speaking of which, Casia thought she spied a small group of her fellow reporters approaching them from the other side of the looming IAW building. She recognised a few of the better known faces – Viman Rai from CXN News and Rajesh Sur from Life‘n’Style – while the others were mostly strangers. Only the press cards dangling from their necks identified them as members of the media.
She smirked. She knew what they wanted of course, and thought she was going to enjoy dangling it in front of them as they all scrambled for a piece. Her gaze flicked over to her companion, who turned out to be too busy ogling the palatial main building to pay much attention to what was going on around him.
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And to think she hadn’t even done anything that spectacular yet. Casia bit her lip to keep herself from grinning like an idiot. She couldn’t help feeling a little smug about it all. The news of her interview series with Ashwin – aired twice every week during her ‘Hour of Truth’ segments – about what had quickly come to be known as the ‘SifCo Conspiracy’, had spread like wildfire throughout the capital.
As Jiniya had predicted, their ratings had skyrocketed overnight, not that they were anything to scoff at before. Jiniya had decided to tease the audience with little titbits of information during the first few segments, whetting their appetites. This was meant to work up to the big reveal, in a much hyped two-hour long ‘grand finale’ on the night of Emancipation Day; which of course happened to be today. Who said hard news couldn’t be entertaining?
As it was, the little they had revealed had already caused quite a stir in the establishment, by the looks of it. The day after their third segment was aired, the Supreme Court formally directed the IAW to launch an investigation into the reports of Aeriel activity near SifCo, taking suo motu cognizance of the case. Rumour had it that the Prime Minister himself had called up the Senior Secretary of Defence to enquire about the reasons behind the delay. They hadn’t even mentioned anything about the supposedly game-changing new sifblade formula yet, and the entire city seemed to be in a flux. She couldn’t wait to see what would happen when they finally flung that particular piece of information out into the open tonight.
The message was significant in itself, and it didn’t hurt that the viewers seemed to love the exotic, doe-eyed messenger. Ashwin had been a hit since day one, also just as Jiniya had predicted. The audiences seemed willing to eat up anything that came out of his innocently boyish – if slightly stuttering – mouth.