Veil

by Aaron Overfield

  Peyton got a glimpse of the phenomenon at her grandfather’s Vequiem. By the time her grandfather passed away, it was a common practice at funerals for attendees to Veil each other and share memories of the deceased. Funeral directors decided there was no better way to memorialize the dead, and most funeral homes had Veil Intranets installed. Vequiem attendees shared their memories as if they were sharing notes or lyrics to form a familiar song. Good memories, bad memories, any memories.

  Through Veil, memorial services transformed into a way for families and friends to string together their broken hearts and shattered minds, each person contributing to a chorus of memories that coalesced into a resounding elegy. Vequiems brought the dead back to life for that day. Although quite young at the time, Peyton could tell the service made it easier for people to say their goodbyes.

  However, her grandmother didn’t want to say goodbye. In fact, she didn’t want anyone to leave the funeral home until she had a chance to Veil with them. No one could leave until Grandma Waymon had a chance to experience as many memories of her dead husband as possible. Not only did Grandma Waymon want to Veil with everyone, she also wanted to interrogate each of them. She wanted to know the names of anyone else who might possess some memories of Peyton’s grandfather. People became desperate to avoid her grandmother’s chillingly bony grasp, so eventually they snuck out of the funeral home. For months, her grandmother tried to hunt down anyone and everyone with memories of Grandpa Waymon.

  Soon, Grandma Waymon had to give up her hunt. She had no choice. People began to warn each other that she’d become a vGriever, so everyone avoided her. She was forced to let her husband go and eventually overcame her grief. Not everybody could get over theirs, though. Some people remained vGrievers for the rest of their lives; their appetite for memories was insatiable.

  Peyton knew even the most vGrieved couldn’t have it half as bad as Hunter. Whereas their minds only experienced new memories of the ones they lost, Hunter’s mind believed it experienced Ken himself. The Veillusion’s grip on Hunter’s mind was inexplicably and immeasurably more powerful than how Suren’s brain momentarily hiccupped when she Veiled with Roy and saw Jin for the first time.

  As Peyton and Suren worked together to touch up the Veillusion, Peyton could see the residual pain in Suren’s eyes when she described that moment. However, it clearly wasn’t comparable to what she witnessed in Hunter. While it was only a Veillusion of Ken, it would feel like Ken to Hunter, nonetheless. Peyton knew that. Peyton knew Hunter wouldn’t last long, and he’d cave. He’d have to touch Ken again. He’d have to kiss Ken again. Hunter loved Ken; Hunter loved Ken deeply; Hunter loved Ken to a fault. Peyton was not blind to that.

  All she needed to do was wait for Hunter’s desperation to get the best of him. Besides, once Ken died, Hunter was all but doomed to live life alone. It was the same for the Great Widow Tsay after she lost Jin. Peyton believed that, deep down, the Trustees knew that. The Trustees knew they were all going to live and die isolated and alone.

  Peyton figured that unconscious truth slowly drove each of them mad. Something had to explain why the three of them were so neurotic and unstable. Mostly out of necessity, The Tsay Trustees were all insulated, cut-off, hermits. Peyton knew the three were destined to live and die completely alone, except for each other—and they couldn’t stand each other.

  “Jesus, you look like crap.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Well, you do.”

  “Here” He held out a small, shiny white box.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s every memory I have of him.”

  “Every memory?”

  “Within reason. I used the same program that he and I created to isolate and extract Roy’s memories of Jin.”

  “You used it on yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “To isolate and extract all your memories of Ken?”

  “Duh, Thumbelina.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Captain Obvious.”

  She rolled her eyes right back, “Ok … but what do you expect—”

  He interrupted her, “That’s not all.”

  “What else, then?”

  “I used a variation of your algorithm to measure, detect, and pluck out the best memories I have of him. I tweaked it to single out my strongest memories of him. Of me and him together.”

  “You used my algorithm?”

  “I had to change it up some. I rewrote it. But yes, it was able to scan all the memories I already extracted, and then it identified the best ones. The most significant ones. Like how you could use it to choose the best script when you didn’t have enough details.”

  “That’s actually pretty—” she started to compliment him.

  “I don’t care about your opinion, Rainbow Brite. I just want you to use those memories.” He pointed at the white box now in her hand. “Use those to add scenes of me and Ken to your Veillusion.”

  “Hunter, you already know what my answer is.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. You do this and streaming is yours. You all can have streaming. I don’t give a shit. I want Ken. I tried to break open your Veillusion and program those in myself, but I couldn’t. Apparently, little Miss Strawberry Shortcake is smarter than me. So, leave. Go. Do it.”

  Peyton had a hard time believing he was going to hand over streaming to her without some guarantee in place. She didn’t trust him. She also didn’t understand half the insults or names he threw at her. He was such an odd, strange little man. Still, she wanted some kind of guarantee. At least, she wanted to try to get one from him.

  “I … well, how do I know you’ll—”

  “Leave.”

  Hunter said it before, and he would say it again: Suren was not one to make empty threats. If she didn’t take a cab, she’d find another way to get to his house. He decided to forego an entire afternoon of Ken simply for the chance of witnessing Suren get out of a cab. It was worth it for the chance of watching her cling to her dignity, as she swung open the cab door and hobbled out. Or fell out. Maybe she’d fall out.

  Oh god, what if she fell out of the cab?

  Oh hell no, he couldn’t miss that. There could be pain and blood to witness. Maybe there should be popcorn. Hunter decided he could have Ken again after Suren left, so he used a blanket to make a pallet on the front porch. He lounged there and sipped down multiple Long Island Iced Teas while snacking on popcorn and waiting for the show to arrive.

  Maybe I should have Band-Aids? Nah, let her bleed.

  He should have figured Roy would cave. It was who Roy was and that wasn’t going to change in the ninth inning. When the limousine pulled up and Roy exited from the driver’s seat, Hunter thought maybe Roy was about to walk around to open Suren’s door. It wouldn’t have surprised him in the least, but it would’ve been appalling to him nonetheless.

  However, Suren opened her own door and slowly extended a white cane from the darkness of the limousine’s interior. She used it as leverage to pry herself off the seat and begin her annoyingly sluggish approach. Roy did rush around to help her climb the stairs, but one could hardly blame him. The old bitch could barely keep herself upright.

  Ugh, what a waste of good popcorn. And … no blood.

  Boooooring.

  “You moved the couch.”

  “Roy and I moved the couch.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  “It’s not like we had any of our little get togethers in here any more, so I didn’t see the point.”

  “I do miss our little get togethers.”

  “I’m sure you do. Yes. Wonderful. Do you know you broke one of his teeth?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Ken. That night you came over and beat his face like you were his pimp and he owed you fiddy dollars. You broke one of his teeth. A molar.”

  “Oh. Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. He dented my ring.” She held up her finger. “See?”

  Hunter didn’t reply.

  “No, you probably can’t see it.
” She lowered her hand and spun her ring in circles while she reminisced. “He dented it, though. So, I’m not surprised.”

  “Simply wonderful. Why are you here, Suren?”

  “I want to talk to you about this plan. About this Ken’s Clause.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, and I’m sure you haven’t, I’m not in the habit of giving you things you want.”

  “Can we cut the bullshit, Hunter? Please. It’s tired and exhausting.”

  Hunter snatched up an empty crystal snifter and chucked it at Suren. It narrowly missed her head and shattered against a wall four feet behind her.

  She’s probably already a fucking ghost, so it just went through her. Go haunt someone else, Connie Chung.

  Hunter had truly aimed for Suren’s head and was genuinely upset that it missed.

  “It’s not bullshit!” he screeched. “And stop making me break all my glasses. You’re not even worth them. Fuck!”

  While she struggled to keep her voice steady, Suren tried a different approach.

  “Fine, I know how to speak your language. Tell me, how did you two use me?”

  Hunter snickered and leaned his chair back. He rested one foot on the wooden handle of the bottom desk drawer and folded his hands across his chest. He could no longer lift his legs high enough to lounge with his feet up on the desk.

  “Ohhh you certainly know how to speak my language, don’t you? Ok. He used what Jin … what your loving husband did to you.” He grinned and pointed an index finger at her, which he spun around mid-air while he pointed at her. Hunter was delighted with himself, so he crinkled his nose and shimmied his butt while he spun his finger at Suren.

  “Yes, you told me as much,” she shook her head. It was still a sore spot for her, but she opened the door. She knew Hunter wouldn’t be able to resist walking through it and would at least start the conversation.

  “Yes, I figured you figured,” Hunter smiled.

  “So?”

  “So what? It’s not that hard to figure out, really. Unless, that is, you’re being lazy.”

  “Hunter, you know there were things I never understood about what the two of you did and how you did them. So, I’m not being lazy, I’m just too dumb,” she greased him.

  “True. Very true. However, I see your bet, and I’ll raise you. I’ll give you some of what you want but not because you reverse-psychologized me into giving it up. I’ll give it to you because I don’t have time to sit here while you try to butter my ass all day. I have masturbating to attend to, thank you very much.”

  “Fair enough,” she conceded. Although quite desensitized to the ways Hunter used gross humor to disarm and provoke people, she was forced to swallow back a gag produced by the visual of his old, shriveled, ashy penis and brittle, gray pubic hair. The image made her mouth taste like bile. She was certain that was the reaction Hunter sought when he said things like that.

  Score one for him, she figured. Nasty old pervert of man.

  “We used what Jin did to your brain, how he trained it to reject Veil. We used the way Jin restructured your brain. Ken took out the fatal part of the time tomb, but we included the rewiring method, and it will train people’s brain to reject Veil. The infection, if you want to call it that, is stored in the artificial brain that’s at the Temple. It’s inside The Jin Experience brain. When it’s triggered, it will transmit the mutation through the vNet like a computer virus. He slowed it down a great, great deal, so it would have time to spread. We’re talking years. I don’t know how many years. He wanted to give it a proper chance, which meant keeping them from being able to isolate it. So they couldn’t cure the artificial brain and then exile all the infected people to prevent the spread of it.”

  “Ok … so what—“

  “Shut up. I’m not done. Do you want to know or not?”

  Suren nodded.

  “That’s what I thought. So, after it gets triggered and released … well then ten years, fifty years, a hundred years later, Veil will just stop working. In one person at first, then another, then another. They’ll start popping up everywhere. One day, Veil won’t work for anyone. And not like how your brain can shadow someone but no one can shadow you. Veil won’t work at all. The brain will be trained to reject communication with any Witness other than one it creates. The neuroelectrical fingerprints will have to match up exactly, like the VSN. Artificial neuroelectrical patterns won’t work. Streaming won’t work. Nothing will work. Veil will be dead, like Ken wanted.”

  “And that’s what I figured,” Suren interjected. “After I saw the Veillusion, I knew you must’ve purposely left out what Jin did to me. You wouldn’t leave anything out by accident. Especially something you knew would affect me. When I heard what you said … when I … well, suffice it to say, I started looking at everything I did, everything I allowed myself to do, and I realized I did some things Jin probably wouldn’t be very proud of—”

  “Probably?” he smirked.

  Unfazed, Suren continued, “—and my mind immediately jumped to that one thing he did to me. Though I know he had my permission, it still doesn’t take away the feeling of betrayal. My mind jumped to that, and it dawned on me. You left it out. Which meant you had a reason. You already told me that you and Ken used me somehow, so I figured out what you really meant by that. Before, I thought you meant you used it to create the solution, but you actually used it as the solution. You used exactly what Jin did to my brain as the way to stop Veil in everyone else’s brain. It’s a great plan, and we know it will work. Jin’s method worked on me.”

  “This is all lovely, Suren. I’m so delighted. Tickled, really. If you figured out all that on your teeny little lonesome, then what the fuck do you want?”

  “You know what I want. What’s the trigger? How and when does Ken’s Clause get released?”

  Hunter grinned. He knew he had something Suren wanted. Not merely something the old bitch wanted but something she needed. He wanted to hear her ask for it. He wanted to hear her say what she wanted, what she needed. He knew she needed to believe Jin’s brainchild wouldn’t turn into the apocalypse. He knew she needed to believe the Tsay name would be untarnished after she was gone. The bitch needed to know that when she died, her reputation would remain intact.

  God, what a fucking ego on her.

  Hunter grinned away and glanced down at his finger. He realized he was mindlessly tapping on the desk. His eyes gazed at his finger and he began to make small circles on the desktop. He could feel the ridges of the wood grain. He casually gushed out his confession without so much as looking her in the face and without any semblance of shame or guilt. Quite the opposite.

  “I’m giving her streaming.”

  “What?” Suren bolted upright as much as she physically could.

  “Peyton. I’m giving her streaming.”

  “It’s not yours to give, Hunter.”

  “It’s not yours either, Suren.”

  His eyes darted up and glared at her. He knew she recognized that what he just told her wasn’t an answer to her question about the trigger, so any irritation from his little confession would be compounded by that fact. Storage and streaming already crossed the threshold of the brain at the Temple and neither triggered Ken’s Clause, so those elements couldn’t possibly be the trigger. He knew Suren was technologically dense but not that dense. By revealing his plan to give Peyton streaming, he wasn’t telling her what she really wanted to know. Hunter knew that was what actually bothered Suren.

  “You can’t do it. It’s forbidden, and I won’t allow it. Ken wouldn’t have wanted it. Ken would've never let you do that.”

  “Well,” he retorted, “Ken’s not here, is he? And if you think you hold more sway with Congress than I do, you’re wrong. I’ve got a better argument than you and mine comes with a huge benefit to the Veil Industry.”

  “Hunter, the Trustees have never publicly opposed each other. Ever.”

  “Suren, the Trustees aren’t shit anymore. We’re not shit. We
don’t count for a fucking thing. We’re old mastheads of a world that’s been gone since the day after you and Ken executed Lundy. We’re irrelevant. They’re waiting for us to die. We know it. They know it.”

  “Still, it’s not what Ken—”

  “Don’t!” He pointed at her. “Don’t you fucking dare play the Ken card with me, woman. You lost that right when you helped deal his death card, because you were too fucking selfish to see his life mattered more than your revenge quest. Besides, you lost him when you turned all Black Widow Tsay on us. He said he didn’t know you any more. You disgusted him. He told me,” Hunter leaned forward and lowered his voice an octave to strike harder, “you were no longer Jin’s wife.”

  Suren turned her head away from Hunter and pretended to stare out the window. A tear fell down the cheek that faced away from Hunter, and although he couldn’t see it, he sensed it. He imagined it would feel more victorious. He thought maybe if he kept at her…

  “I know you assume that, because you knew him longer, you must’ve known him better. You think he was your Ken first, like Jin was your Jin, and so Veil is your Veil. But you didn’t, and he wasn’t. You can have Veil for all I fucking care. Ken was mine. We shared our lives for over ten years. We shared a bed for longer than that. Longer than you knew about. Ken was mine. The man would’ve taken my last name, except it would’ve turned his into ‘Ken Lee Kennerly.’ So no, Bukkake Suey, you don’t get to say what Ken wanted or would’ve wanted. What Ken would have wanted was to be alive. He would’ve wanted to be here with me for the last twenty-five years. Ken would’ve wanted to be alive and here with me!”

  Hunter banged his fist on the desk three times and almost produced a tear but fought it off. He wouldn’t give the bitch that satisfaction.

  Suren still pretended to look out the window. She couldn’t bear to look at Hunter. She knew he was right; she knew he was justified; she knew none of it would change anything. She would go home and continue to be the dried up old Widow Tsay, and he would stay there and continue to be the same bitter, angry Hunter, who only lived to hate her. It wasn’t as if anyone could’ve stopped her from hating Lundy. The more she felt hate for Lundy, the more she felt connected to Jin. Hunter was no different, and she couldn’t blame him for it. She didn’t have the energy for blame.