Veil

by Aaron Overfield

  “So you’re going to hand Jin’s research over to them? Just like that?” Suren confronted Ken after that final call with Brock.

  “Well, it’s not giving it to them; it’s giving it to … you know, the not-thems.”

  “Hear me out, ok?”

  “Of course.”

  “One, we can’t be entirely sure they are who they say they are. Maybe this was their goal the whole time. To find out what we know. Two, you only think we’re dealing with this Hunter Kennerly guy, and only because you know the calls came from this Brock Elsbeth person. All signs point to him being Hunter Kennerly’s patient and childhood friend. Signs from the internet, mind you.”

  “Yeah, but that part all makes sense. That fits together. Especially considering this Hunter guy’s specialty.”

  “I get that. What I’m saying is: why trust it? Why trust any of it? It isn’t like you. Mistrust, especially of these people, is why you left Jin in the first place.”

  “I didn’t leave him.”

  “Ok—ok poor choice. I’m sorry. You get my drift. I’m trying to make sure we’re thinking clearly and rationally here. This isn’t only risky, and it’s risky enough as it is, this is also dangerous. It could undermine everything we’ve been trying to accomplish since the moment you arrived here, Ken. And … and … it could get us killed. It’s that last one that really stands out, you know?” Ironically, Suren found herself channeling Ken when she presented her points to him.

  Although he immediately came up with ten different arguments, Ken instead forced himself to capitulate.

  “I understand. I get it, and I hear you. I really do. And as far as I’m concerned this is all yours. Veil is all yours, and control of it is yours.”

  “Ok, good. And I thank you. But it’s ours. Jin’s first and now ours.”

  “Ok, but still … considering what you’ve pointed out, what would you like? What do you suggest?”

  “We need a safety net, Ken. One big, invisible honker of a safety net.”

  After a moment of contemplation, he grinned and asked, “How about a kill switch instead?”

  With her head titled, Suren stared back blankly and blinked at him.

  “What was that douche baggery all about?” Hunter cracked.

  “What?” Brock asked. He was a bit stung by Hunter’s tone.

  “That whole ‘I’m gunna talk like a 60s movie spy’ act. All serious and cryptic and ‘I’m gunna use as few words as possible because someone might be listening in.’ Like you’re fucking Bourne or some shit. You do realize if someone were listening in they’d still know exactly what you were talking about despite the fact that you decided to talk like—like that. Whatever that was. Is that how it went every time you’ve called them?”

  “Yeah, it kinda came out like that at first and, I dunno, I went with it. It felt cool.”

  “I don’t what’s sadder, that you talked to him like that, or that he tried to respond in the same stupid way.”

  “You know, for someone who is such a big joke all the time, you really do suck all the fun out of life, asshole.”

  “I’m sorry—I suck all the what?”

  “God, your mind is one big, gay gutter.”

  “Speaking of … I bet I could get Matt Damon to suck my dick.”

  Gross, dude.

  It was an odd pre-encounter for the first ten minutes or so. Both already knew how the other looked but neither wanted to clue the other in on that fact. So, they pretended not to recognize each other and pretended to be wondering which of the people touring the monument was the person they were supposed to be meeting. Although they immediately recognized each other, they both went in the opposite direction to pretend to look for each other until so much time passed that they both figured they pretended for long enough.

  “Are you—” Ken started to ask.

  “Dr. Wise?” the computerized voice beat him to the punch.

  “Yes.”

  After a brief pause, “I believe you have something for me?”

  Ken took the drive out of his left front jacket pocket and held it up.

  Another brief pause and then, “I’m going to disable the automation controls for my chair. Come around behind me, and start pushing me around the monument. While you’re doing that, use your right hand to remove the end cap on the handle of my chair, place the drive inside the hollow end and then replace the end cap. Make sure it’s really tight.”

  “Ok,” Ken responded and positioned himself behind the gentleman’s wheelchair as instructed.

  As Ken pushed Brock around the monument and followed the directions he was given, Brock resumed. “There will be two days of studying and then two days of development. Starting tomorrow. So on the fifth day our contact will leave the military facility first thing in the morning, and we will meet you and Dr. Tsay’s wife at your lab. After we’ve made a complete circle around the monument, I need you to come around to the right side of my chair where you’ll notice a keyboard in the pocket on the side. Use that to type the address of your lab onto the screen, so we’re sure we have it correct. There won’t be any further communication between us until we meet at your lab Monday morning. Do you understand all that?”

  “Yes,” Ken replied and pushed the end cap back into the handle. He made sure it was inserted tightly. He continued to push the chair around the inner-ring of the monument and asked, “Do you know an approximate time we will be meeting at the lab?”

  “We aren’t able to give an exact time. We don’t know when will be an opportune time for the contact to safely depart from the military facility. We don’t want to risk exposure and won’t know until the time is right.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you have the blank drive I asked you to bring?”

  “Right here.” Ken lifted the drive out of his pocket and held it up. He quickly realized Brock couldn’t see it because he was standing behind him.

  “Ok, stop pushing my chair for a second and bend down. Underneath my seat, you’ll see the face of the computer I’m using. Place the drive into the open slot and then start pushing me again. I will copy over the specs of the prototype.”

  “Done.”

  “Good. Our contact isn’t sure whether he will be able to leave with the actual prototype, so he’d like you to spend the next four days acquiring the materials needed to assemble another one, in case he can’t escape with it. To save time, everything needs to be in place and ready to go. Everything required to build and program the device is included in those specs. Our contact needs you to, at the very least, obtain all the necessary materials. It’s up to you if you want to, and think you can, correctly assemble and program it. Then, all that would need to be added is the additional program code our contact will develop based on the documents you gave me. It’s ready now, you can take the drive back out.”

  “Done. I should be able to assemble and program one myself, depending on how quickly I can obtain all the raw materials.”

  Ken used the keyboard attached to Brock’s computer to type in the address of his lab.

  After a bit of silence, and sounding rather peculiar to Ken coming from such a monotone voice, Brock said, “You know, this place is actually quite beautiful.”

  Ken had never been to the World War II monument. He made it to D.C. a few times, mostly to visit Jin and Suren when Jin first took on the contract, but he hadn’t been back for several years, and the monument was constructed since his last visit. Ken noticed that Brock was right, and he took a moment to soak in the sights of the monument. It was beautiful. It resembled a structure he imagined the Greeks or Romans would’ve built if they and their aesthetics survived the ages.

  “It looks like something you’d find on Vulcan,” Brock opined.

  “You know, I can see that,” Ken chuckled and pushed the gentleman’s chair. They circled the monument four times in silence. Twice around the innermost ring and twice around the edge.

  “Morning, sir,” Hunter announced as he ope
ned the General’s door without so much as a knock.

  “There’s my boy!” the General exclaimed and threw down his pen. “Where’s ol’ Chairholio?” he asked lovingly.

  “Oh, he’s probably in bed. It’s still pretty early. For him at least. I’m sure he’s got some stuff planned for himself while I’m at the lab. There’s a lot to see here. My being in town was a great excuse for him to come. Well, that and to see his parents. But you know how that is.”

  “You know, there’s no way I would’ve let him stay with his parents if you told me he was coming, he’s your best friend and all. Could’ve gotten him a five-star suite somewhere. Hell, you two act like brothers. Lynn loved him. Adored him. Gotta have him over again before he leaves, she says.”

  “Brock thinks your wife is a hoot, General. That’s for sure. Will definitely come over again.”

  “Well next time,” the General commanded as he picked up his pen and pointed it at Hunter, “you let me know when your damned best friend is coming to visit and we’ll make sure he gets the royal treatment.”

  “No offense, General, but I doubt I’ll be here long enough for there to be a next time.”

  The two men laughed at that the absurdity of what the General implied. He got up from his desk, walked around it, and leaned on the front edge. He faced Hunter, crossed his arms, and huffed.

  “You know, I guess I’ve gotten used to having you around. These buffoons couldn’t have done this without you. Don’t think for a second that’s lost on me.”

  “Eh, they’re alright. That’s actually one of the things I came to talk to you about, but first,” he went on a spontaneous tangent and almost kicked himself for having not come up with the idea before that very moment, “I came to make a kind of personal request, sir.”

  The General’s back straightened, and he placed his hands on his hips. Probably a reflex to hearing the word “sir,” Hunter figured.

  “Anything. Just ask,” the General nodded.

  “Well, I’ll probably stay the next two nights with Brock, if that’s ok with you, clearance-wise and all. His parents are going out of town for the weekend, so I don’t want him to have to stay out there by himself.”

  “Hell, no problem, you got it; I’ll clear that, of course son. That’s it?”

  “Actually, what I was really wondering is if I could go ahead and take the day off on Monday. You know, spend the whole day with my buddy. Show him around and give him the one-on-one time. Since I’ll be working through the weekend and everything. Would start back up first thing Tuesday morning of course, sir.”

  “Absolutely, wouldn’t have it any other way. Maybe Monday night, Lynn can do a dinner again and ol’ boy can leave his trip on a high note,” the General offered.

  Yeah, that ain’t gunna happen, fucker, was Hunter’s initial reaction but instead his mouth graciously accepted. “Hell boss, I’m sure he’d be delighted.”

  “Hot damn! I’ll let her know,” he hollered and clapped once as he headed back to his chair.

  “Now about the two buffoons, sir. Considering the intense work they are going to be doing Saturday and Sunday, I was thinking maybe they could take Monday off as well. Give them a little time to decompress a bit.”

  “Intense work?”

  Hunter spent the next fifteen minutes explaining the reason he’d come to the General’s office that morning. He let the General know that in two days the Veil prototype should be ready for testing. He explained with passion how he believed Schaffer and Pollock should be the ones to not simply test it, but test it on each other. Hunter played the General like a skin flute, which of course Hunter considered himself to play quite well, thank you very much.

  By the time Hunter left General Coffman’s office, he obtained the General’s blessing to stay with Brock for the next two nights (to study Ken’s Encyclopedia Veil), get Schaffer and Pollock out of the lab (so he could perfect the coding of the additional features), and be away from the facility for an entire day on Monday (without rousing any suspicion). That last bit would provide them more time than Hunter originally estimated. Hell, it would be Tuesday afternoon before anyone was looking for Hunter. The timespan between a Sunday night and a Tuesday afternoon suddenly seemed like an eternity.

  “I’m going to hate to see you go, son,” the General lamented as Hunter headed to the door.

  “Maybe I don’t have to. Who knows?”

  “Don’t tease boy, don’t tease!”

  When Hunter walked away from the General’s office toward the long corridor that led to the research building, he knew it was probably for the last time. He reveled in the sound as his shoes left plush carpet, hit linoleum, and started their usual sharp, rhythmic clicking. That time, his shoes sounded as airy and happy to him as Mary fucking Poppins herself.

  You assclowns in uniforms are so damn easy.

  “The design is pretty brilliant. I’ll admit that,” Ken shouted from the dining room. He sat at the table and stared at the computer screen for over four hours, at what looked to her like gibberish and gobbledygook.

  “That’s nice,” Suren sighed and glided around the kitchen. She tried to stay busy by cooking an unnecessary amount of food, ignoring how it was only the two of them. She didn’t love to cook, but she liked it enough for it to be a good distraction when necessary. She was playing some Nina Simone in the background. She loved that woman’s voice. So much passion. So much rawness. So much power and realness. Jin always said Nina sounded like a man. What the hell did Jin know? He didn’t have any soul, Suren bristled. Nina Simone’s music was the only music Suren ever listened to anymore.

  “I mean, to condense everything down to a mobile device and in such a short amount of time. The guy must be a genius. And looking through this makes me trust him more; it makes me trust all of this more. I don’t care what their ultimate plan was, if they were up to something malicious, they wouldn’t have handed this over to us. Everything you need to make Veil is right here.”

  “That’s nice,” she sighed again. She hadn’t made Gorgonzola pasta since Jin was alive, and the smell of the cheese struck her memory a lot stronger than she would’ve liked. She thought maybe some wine would go good with the meal. Red wine always went so well with a strong blue cheese. And with Nina too, who started singing again.

  Trouble in mind, it’s true, I have almost lost my mind…never had so much trouble in my life before.

  Sing it, Nina, she thought. God that woman sang an appropriate song for every single one of life’s moments. She checked the angel-hair pasta again; that stuff was so easy to overcook.

  “The programming is beautiful. And the way everything is processed within the unit, you could totally add functionality rather easily. It would be simple not only to upgrade but also completely overhaul the technology without changing one part of the circuitry or one piece of material. The device itself only has a few mechanical functions; it’s the processor and programming that really do most of the work. For him to design and write the code for this intricate yet simple of a device can only mean one thing.”

  “That’s good,” she replied reflexively. The timing of her replies was based entirely on the pauses in Ken’s speech, which indicated when he was probably waiting for a response. Her angel-hair pasta was done and sitting to the side, ready to be dished, but she needed to wait for the Gorgonzola sauce to thin a bit more. If it were too thick when served, the sauce wouldn’t penetrate the noodles enough and would clump on top. If it were too thin, it would all sink to the bottom and form a watery pool. She wasn’t about to serve runny pasta. Wasn’t that right, Nina?

  “It can only mean this Hunter guy is an alien,” Ken tested.

  “Interesting. Wow,” Suren raised her eyebrows and nodded her head.

  Damn her. She didn’t even try to pretend like she was paying attention. Ken turned around and saw she was still fooling with whatever was in the pots on the stove. It was the same thing she did for probably the last two hours, except an open bottle of win
e had since made an appearance on the counter next to her.

  Oh, wine? Well surprise, surprise, surprise.

  “Ummm hello—little lady?” Ken addressed her directly.

  Suren looked up from her pots and attempted to hide how she was a bit startled. She didn’t fully realize she wasn’t paying Ken any attention, although she knew it well enough to offer up her feigned responses.

  “Oh … yeah. Hello what?” she asked.

  “What do you mean ‘hello what’? You haven’t been listening to anything I’ve been saying. For like the last ten minutes.”

  “Yes I have, silly. I’m standing right here.”

  “Ok, then what was I talking about? Just now?” he quizzed.

  “Really Ken? You were talking about how … ummm, see stuff like this is hard for me to explain, I don’t understand it like you and Jin, but you were talking about how the design will work. The design thingy. You said it’s pretty or whatever. Like it will be easy for you to make, I’m sure.”

  “I said all that, huh? What was the last thing I said?”

  “I dunno, you made me forget.”

  “I said the Hunter guy must be an alien.”

  “Oh, well, I mean … I guess. Ok, I wasn’t paying attention. So sue me.” She rolled her eyes.

  “So sue me? Sue me?” he laughed. He got up from his seat, walked over, and pressed ‘pause’ on the iPod. “What are we in fifth grade?”

  “Hey! Turn her back on!”

  “That was a woman?” he joked. An appreciation for Nina Simone was one of the things he picked up from Suren many years ago.

  He entered the kitchen, got himself a glass, and poured some wine; he first topped off her half-empty glass, and then poured his own.

  “Thanks for offering me any of this,” he said in the most guilt-laden way he could as he poured his glass.